#i will bite and claw and kick and scream my way there no matter how much i seem to be shoved down by the world.

[adainesfroggieboggy]

in my “my dreams are real and tangible. i can make them realer.” era. working hard because i want to, working towards a goal i can see and feel and hold in my hands. all my stumbles and all my setbacks? roadblocks. i can find another route. i can get there. i will be ok.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader x

Top of the Food Chain

I've always wanted to continue my naga!mha fic but considering i dont write for deku+co anymore, i decided to move my au a couple fandoms over:D 1.8k wc

Part two , Part three

(Warnings: animal deaths, blood, obsession, dark content, slight gun threat but not rlly, polyamory, gender ambigious!reader) 

Despite being here for nearly a week, you still don't think Satoru understood how delicate you are. 

He's overbearing, in that sense. Constantly poking and prodding and squeezing until your lungs give and you're forced to squeak. You can't blame him for not understanding. He's an animal, after all. Inhuman. Despite his skin and hair, the scales coating his tail give away just how different he is. He was probably born fighting, kicking, and screeching his way through the foliage, hunting, chewing, and biting. 

He's not like you when all you knew when you were younger was coddling and softness. You can see it in his scars, and bruises, and marks. 

Luckily, for you, Suguru had an inkling that you weren't made for sharp claws. 

It's not a fight, you can tell when they're fighting, it's more like a warning? A minor disagreement. Suguru hisses at the other naga, scrunching up his face, showing his teeth. Satoru is quick to respond, but a little more playful. Fortunately for you, the black-haired male seems to win the argument. Satoru's coils loosen around you. Air stops fighting its way to get into your lungs. 

You finally go lax in his hold. Satoru seems to enjoy that, dipping his head to bury his face into the base of his neck. The first few times he did that, you were afraid he was trying to bite off your jugular. Now, you think it's just another way he can soak up your body heat. 

Maybe you've been here for longer than a week. At this point, you couldn't really tell. Hope that you'd be found was starting to slowly fizzle away. The explosion had been massive. The ship had sunk in a matter of minutes. With a disaster that huge, you doubt anyone would still be looking for survivors. Especially on an uncharted island, where myth had turned into reality. 

 Satoru had been the one you'd woken up to. Washed ashore, barely conscious. You were half-certain he was planning on eating you with the way he held your leg, watching your muscles bend and turn. In his defense, he must have thought you were dead. Your shrill scream quickly convinced him otherwise. 

It was barely a fight. More or less, a pathetic kidnapping as he grabbed your body, slinging it over his shoulder. You've never remembered screaming and crying so loudly before, convinced you were about to be eaten. Suguru probably heard you before he saw you. 

Satoru's mate was a little less impressed with you. Back then, they didn't bother learning your tongue, speaking in hisses and snarls, unaware of your misery. Suguru's frown was glued on his face, but the naga never let you run away, always keeping a hand or a tail on you at all times. It was a rough first day; you didn't know they weren't interested in eating you until they tried to feed you. 

Things were much different back then Nowadays, they are a lot more considerate of yourself and your soft body. You think you've come to an understanding with these strange creatures. 

Suguru was the nicest out of the two. In that, you mean the least rough. Compared to his counterpart, he's a bit smaller, but that's not saying there's any real difference. If it comes down to it, you are more than certain he'd be able to kill you off as quickly as his mate. You thought he hated you, at first. Now, you think he has a hard time showing blatant affection. His touches typically come in the dead of night, when you're barely conscious. A clawed finger gently raking over your soft skin. Large hands sculpting your face. 

Satoru's eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. Glittering like blue sapphires. You had a feeling they weren't just for show. Time and time again he's proven that he can see better than Suguru could. He smiles a lot more, but you're starting to wonder if that expression translates across species. He can speak your tongue slightly better than Suguru could. It most likely has to do with his insistence on staying with you. The more time you spend with him, the more you have to say 'No' 'Don't touch there' 'Stop'. 

In the rare times you manage to escape their hold, you like watching them interact with each other. They often sunbathe for hours, lazing around hot rocks to soak in the heat. They like touching each other. Sometimes it's aggressive, like when Satoru chomps on Suguru's neck and you're suddenly much more aware of how careful he is with you. Other times it's: soft, unintentional, meaningless. Languid cuddling when you are finally able to braid Suguru's hair. 

At this point, you've surmised they won't eat you. At least, not for the moment. You don't exactly know what they think of you. Do they have the concept of pets in their worldview? Maybe that's the closest thing you can place yourself as, at least in their eyes. They must think you're helpless. To them, you have no claws, no fangs, no venom. They probably don't know you come from a species that's hunted others to extinction and currently burning down the planet. You must be the first time they've ever seen your kind, stripped away from your weapons, when you're the least dangerous. 

"You should be more scared of me, you know," you once whispered to Suguru in the dead of night.

He was dozing off, blearily keeping his eyes open to stare at your moving lips. There was a grunt behind you, and Satoru tightened his arms across your waist. Greedy for affection, even in his sleep.

"Humans are terrifying," you said, reaching out to touch, "top of the food chain."

Suguru had smiled at that. You found yourself smiling back.

"You're lucky I didn't have a gun on me. You probably don't even know what that is." It's dark humor to press two fingers into his forehead. Your way of coping maybe.

Or perhaps your actions prove that humans will always desire to be violent, no matter how perilous their fight may be.

"Bang." He leans into your touch, unafraid. Oblivious to the threat that you are.

You're guessing Satoru only let you go because of the food Suguru brought.

You're able to feel the ground again as he glides over to Suguru having just come back from a successful hunt. The carcass of the largest deer you've ever seen is slung across his back. The smell of blood already makes you nauseous. 

You think Suguru had been the most panicked when you refused to eat, clicking and cooing while he tried to force-feed you the bloody leg of a bear. Back then, your communication was even worse than it was now. You were smeared in crimson by the time he relented. Practically dripping in it. 

Now, Suguru knows you have different tastes than them. You're not a big fan of raw. The fish and the handful of berries are more than enough to sate you as you gather the items he's given in your hands. 

"Thank you," you say. You reach out, touching his face with warm fingers. He purrs into your touch. You smile. It's the least gratitude you can give him. After all, he's not asking for much. If they hadn't found you, you would have been dead long ago, or at least, significantly less weaker. It's the least you can do. 

For a moment, you delude yourself into thinking they were your pets. It'd certainly be easy too. They have little to no regard for personal boundaries, much like dogs. They're more animalistic than they are human. 

It's funny to think of these monsters as lovable pets.

"Thank you," Suguru repeats. You giggle. It's not like they actually understand you. It's simple mimicry. Like talking to a parrot. 

"Thank you!" Satoru chirps, never one to be left out. He pushes his mate out of the way, eager for your pets as well. Suguru hisses, but doesn't argue. You've learned they like to be scratched right there on the bottoms of their chins. 

Suguru's less obvious, but Satoru has no desire to pretend. He melts into you, practically slumping his weight into your weak hold. It's a little adorable actually. You give a little laugh. He seems even more pleased at that. 

They're fun to be around, but this can't last. You belong with other humans, far far away from this island. So far, you hadn't seen any boats in the horizon, but you hope one would come by soon. A plane would be even better. Close enough to give you hope. Maybe if you built a big enough fire, it'd reach someone eye. 

Hopefully, in just a few weeks, these creatures will be a very cherished memory. 

You frown when Satoru reaches over to grasp at your food, the meat specifically. You glare, moving away from his hold. He titters in clear disappointment. You hate seeing him sad but you already have so few food sources. It's best to conserve whatever you get. 

"No," you pointedly tell him, "It's mine. Mine." 

His frown deepens, and he opens his jaws to let his fangs pop out. 

"Mine," you repeat. 

He leans back, huffing. You laugh because you know his expression is more out of frustration than any actual anger. Again, animals. You pet his head in apology, before turning away. You'd have to start a tiny fire to start cooking. Raw fish is edible, but it's hardly desirable. 

A hand grabs yours, clawed, the grip is tight around your frail skin. When you look back, Satoru is staring at you. Eyes wide. Eager. 

"Mine," he says, but it's more like he's testing the word. Tasting it on his lips. 

You scoff, unamused. "That's my arm. Not yours." 

Satoru smiles. Sharp teeth. You suddenly remember he's a carnivore. 

He's slow when he draws you in, practically dragging you into his arms. You're used to his spontaneous hugs, tight and suffocating. You can't fight him off, so you typically wait until Suguru has enough of his behavior and drags him off you. 

"Mine," Satoru repeats. Alarm bells ring in your head but it's easy to brush them off. It's mimicry. They can't understand. It's like talking to a parrot. 

You feel the weight of the other naga at your back. His arms wrap around your waist, pushing you against Satoru's chest. You stiffen when Suguru's fangs lightly graze up your neck. Never quite punctures, but is terrifyingly close.

"Mine," Suguru says into your skin. 

You laugh again, but it comes out less hesitant. More airy. Amid their hold, a sudden thought comes to you.

If you weren't at the top of the food chain anymore, then who was?

[gravehags]

feel you from the inside

Pairing: Dewdrop x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: ghoul in rut, knotting, primal play, rough P in V sex

Words: 2,636

Summary: He warned you about his rut. Tonight you get to find out why.

a/n: this is all @gehrmansbignaturals fault and i'm not responsible for the way my period/covid booster/awake since 2 am brain took over.

divider by @ghuleh-recs

It starts with a text.

Edge of the woods, 8 PM. Wear sneakers.

Terse and to the point, no room for endearments or pleasantries. You’re almost hurt until it hits you like a freight train and you check your calendar. 

November 2 - Dew starts rut

Suddenly a warmth begins in your stomach and grows outwards, spreading through your limbs and creating a hot, throbbing sensation between your legs. You have no idea what he has planned, like, the woods? Sneakers? You had never been with him during his rut before but you imagined something a little more…romantic. Maybe involving some wine. He didn’t tell you much about it other than to mark it on your calendar because he would be…different. And that’s all he said on the matter so you didn’t press him, but your mind ran wild. Dewdrop was already a needy, desperate lover - your lovemaking with him often ending in scratch marks and hand-shaped bruises on your thighs - so you were baffled at how he could possibly get even more untamed. Would it be a blessing or a nightmare? You aren’t sure yet and to be honest you are far too eager to find out, so you send him an affirmative text with a couple x’s and o’s attached just to remind him how you feel. 

You continue going about your day at the Ministry and attending to your chores, but don’t feel a tell-tale buzz in your pocket again - responding to you or otherwise. Back in your quarters, you grab a loose pair of black joggers and an oversized flannel from your closet and begin to slip them on before a wicked thought runs through your mind. With a grin, you slide your underwear down your legs and kick them aside before reaching behind you to undo your bra. Now you’re ready to get dressed, and slip the comfortable pants and button down on your nude form. Your hands are shaking - out of fear or anticipation, you’re not sure - as you tie the laces of your sneakers and take a deep breath, readying yourself for what’s to come. You slip your phone into the pocket of your pants and head out to meet your ghoul lover to see what his ominous request - and his rut - entails. The walk out to the forest is nice, there is a definite bite in the air but the first snow hasn’t fallen yet so the umber colored leaves are still clinging to the trees. You shiver and pull your sleeves down over your hands, regretting not wearing a jacket or something. But, you thought excitedly, it would just be one more layer for Dewdrop to go through. If that is something he has in mind at all. You don’t see him right away in the dim light until you spot two glowing eyes behind a tree, watching you intently.

“Hey babe,” you call out with a little wave, “got the sneakers. You gonna tell me what’s up?”

When he steps out of the darkness and into the low light of the setting sun, you can’t help but gasp. He’s hunched in on himself, fists balled at his sides and he looks almost apprehensive to come anywhere near you. In the end he stops himself about six feet away from where you stand and takes a deep, shuddering breath before addressing you.

“Hey,” he rasps out, as if he’s been screaming all day. “Uh…thanks for coming. I–ugh.”

His back tenses and spine shifts as if he’s holding himself back and his face contorts in what you can only assume is pain. Concerned, you take a step towards him but upon seeing you move, he rapidly stumbles backwards.

“I know it’s your rut,” you say quietly, stuffing your hands in your pockets, “I put it on my calendar like you asked me to.”

He nods and runs a hand through his long, loose hair, claws sharp and extended. 

“Tell me what you need,” you say calmly, despite the riot of physical sensations reeling through you. Fear. Disquiet. Anticipation. Arousal.

You jump when he tips his head back and lets out a laugh, shutting his eyes and showing his fangs.

“What I need…” he says, flexing his hands and cracking his neck, “is for you to run.”

A beat passes.

“I’m…sorry?”

“I need you to take off running, as far into those woods as you can. And when I catch you - and I will catch you - I am going to fuck you. Hard. Fast. And I won’t stop until you’re stuffed full of my cum and can barely walk let alone run anymore. I will give you a five minute head start. Now, run.”

Your mind is a riot as you back away from him, watching something shift in his eyes as he grins. Heart pounding you see his breathing getting deeper, rougher and something animalistic opens within him. 

So you run.

You don’t look back and begin to sprint through the trees, dodging low hanging branches and leaping over fallen trunks. It’s much darker here with the cover of foliage and you’ve already lost your bearings. Still, you don’t stop, even as you feel your arousal dripping down the side of your leg and your heart thundering behind your ribs. Your sides burn but you continue to heed his request and go deeper, deeper into the woods. The pine needles crunch under your feet and finally you have to force yourself to take a break. You ache, in more ways than one. Never before had you considered how…thrilling something like this could be. You hear a branch crack and your eyes dart around you, looking for glowing eyes in the darkness. You’re not sure how much further you can get without bringing your cell phone out for light and you don’t want to make it that easy on him. Fear rockets through your veins, twitching and gasping at every rustle in the trees, every shift of what remains of the light. The sound of your heart pounding and your heaving breaths are loud - too loud - in your ears and it's distracting you from your surroundings. Having caught your breath, you begin to jog again, eyes struggling to find a path in the dark. Eventually you do give in and pull out your phone to switch on the flashlight. A mistake.

You’re so focused on where your next step is you don’t see the slight form of your lover, striking at you from the darkness. Your scream echoes through the woods, sends birds from the tall trees, when he tackles you to the ground. The breath is completely knocked from your lungs as he maneuvers you onto your back, the light from your upturned phone on the ground beside you shining up at him. His hair is wild, half in his face and his lips are turned into a vicious snarl, fangs shining. Roughly he pins your wrists above your head with a punishing grip before leaning down and sniffing deeply at the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck,” he growls, situating himself in between your legs. “Fuck, baby you’re so fucking hot.”

When he grinds his - impressively hard - cock against your core you gasp and arch into his touch. He laughs a little hysterically when you buck into him again and tightens his grip around your wrists. His claws cut into your skin but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“You have no fucking idea what I’m gonna do to you,” he says, leaning down once more to lick a hot, wet stripe up the side of your face to taste you. “Gonna really make you mine.”

“Dew,” you breathe as he steadily presses himself into your cunt over and over, “Dew, please. I want it. I want it so bad.”

He relinquishes his grip on your wrists with a growl and you know you’ll be bruised tomorrow but he’s backing away from you. You whimper, looking up at him as he sits back on his haunches and reaches down to either side of your shirt. With one swift motion he tears the shirt in two, sending buttons flying and ripping a gasp from you. When he sees that you’re braless, a filthy little smile curls his lips.

“You were already ready for me, huh? My good little whore.”

He wastes no time in latching himself onto your nipple, roughly tonguing it. When he nips at it with his teeth - harder than he’s ever done before - you cry out and slip your hand into his hair to pull at his scalp. When he does it again on your other nipple you slide another hand between the two of you to cup at his cock. Your fingers slide against the length of him and he bites - fangs digging into the plushness of your breast. You think he might have broken skin from the way his tongue slides over the spot but you don’t care.

“Do it again,” you breathe, fingers gripping at his roots, “please Dew, fuck.”

He bucks against your hand and chuckles, obliging you by marking your other breast. Tears form in your eyes but the arousal is greater than the pain, and he takes care of you so very well. 

“Filthy,” he purrs into your ear, “I didn’t know my girl liked it that rough.”

“Thought you were gonna fuck me,” you say with a lazy grin, “‘Hard. Fast. Not stopping ‘til you’re filled with my cum.’ So do it Dewdrop. Make me yours.”

You’ve challenged him - always a dangerous thing to do but especially in this moment - and with a low growl he’s pulling back and ripping your pants down to your knees. He doesn’t comment on your lack of underwear, doesn’t need to when his face is contorted in pleasure as he drinks in your scent. He’s breathing heavily through his nose as he unbuttons and unzips his pants, taking his cock out into the chill air. You gasp when you see him - fuck you’ve never seen him that hard before - he’s red and it looks painful, precum slobbering down the side of him. 

“Fuck, Dew,” you say softly, reaching out to him, “I–”

He silences you by slamming his lips into yours in a bruising kiss, tongue forcing its way past your lips to plunder your mouth. His grip on your hair is a little too hard, teeth a little too sharp against you and you can tell he’s reached the end of his patience. His cock wetly rests between the two of you, Dew’s hips shifting minutely as he nips along your jaw.

“Said I was gonna fill you up,” Dew grunts into your ear, fingers fisting your locks, “and if that’s what you want it’s what you’re going to fucking get.”

In an instant, he pulls back and takes his cock in hand, positioning himself at your entrance. He’s still holding back, you can tell, so you speak.

“Dewdrop.”

He looks down at you, cheeks flushed looking on the verge of tears.

“Do it.”

The words are barely out of your mouth and he’s already slid inside you, bottoming out in a heartbeat. He hunches himself over you, like some kind of beast, and begins to aggressively fuck into you. His thrusts are not gentle, not tender and you don’t want it any other way. When you wrap your legs around his waist he practically howls, cock pumping in and out of you. The sounds coming from where the two of you are joined are obscene, and you buck your hips into him again and again. His hands have shifted to wrap around your thighs, claws once again biting into your pliant flesh. You can feel the scratch of the forest floor behind your head as he pounds into you, completely lost in the feeling of his rut. When you clench around him he practically folds you in half in his desire to get himself deeper, harder inside you.

“Mine,” he growls, “mine, mine, fucking mine.”

“Yours,” you choke out, breath continuously knocked from your lungs from the force of his thrusts, “only yours.”

Your response causes him to make a noise halfway between a sob and a hysterical laugh. He’s so deep inside you, hitting that beautiful spot every single time as you begin to see stars in your eyes. You can feel your climax roiling within you, clenching around him rhythmically, causing him to throw his head back and moan.

“I’m close, Dew,” you pant, reaching your hands out towards his face.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he spits, grabbing your hands and slamming them back above your head. Suddenly you feel a swelling within you and realize he’s…is he knotting you? Like an animal? The moan that rips from you as his cock is locked inside of you is loud enough to wake the dead. You’re so wonderfully, deliciously full and his hips rocket against yours, the swollen base of him brushing your clit with every movement.

“That’s it,” he breathes, reaching to stroke your face, “take it. Such a good girl.”

When he slides his thumb into your mouth you dutifully wrap your lips around it and suck, tongue running along the ridges of the digit. Both of your moans are becoming more frequent, louder, higher and you can tell the two of you are close. 

“Fuck, baby,” he cries out, reaching down to rub at your clit. His calloused fingers know exactly how to work you and all of a sudden the light from your phone is creating a halo around his blonde head and your jaw hangs slack as your orgasm washes over you and you witness this divine creature. You’re still riding the wave of your own climax when all of a sudden he’s pulsing inside you, cum painting your inner walls - more than he’s ever released before. You’re so full of him you’re leaking, dripping down onto the dirt but he doesn’t pull out. With a heavy sigh, he collapses on top of you and you stroke at his messy hair, idly pulling the twigs out of it with a dazed smile. A moment passes before you can bring yourself to speak.

“Dew, I can’t breathe,” you murmur, always struck by how surprisingly heavy he is.

“Gimme a minute,” he breathes into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “Don’t want to leave yet.”

“Leave the forest or my cunt?”

He chuckles so hard you can feel him shake above you.

“Fuck the forest. I wanna stay inside you forever.”

“How sweet. But I think there’s a rock that’s been digging into my back this whole time and I’m covered in pine needles. You’re covered in pine needles. C’mon babe. Up.”

When he finally does slip out of you with a low whine you’re staggered by the sudden loss you feel. You want him to stay inside you forever. But for now, you let him pull you to your feet and pull up your pants. Sheepishly, he attempts to adjust the torn remains of your shirt as you roll your eyes. Snagging your phone from the ground, you let him guide you out of the woods. The two of you walk in silence up to the well-lit abbey when you turn to him.

“Next time you have your rut–”

“What do you mean next time? Babe I’m still in it. You think I’m done with you?”

His hand reaches down to squeeze at the globe of your ass and he gives you a bright, vicious grin. Typical Dew. So you lean into it.

“Promise?” you purr, leaning in to hover your lips above his.

“You have no idea,” he breathes against you before kissing you soundly.

You’re still finding pine needles in his hair two days later. 

And he keeps his promise.

[mediocreanomaly]

Good Boy - Hybrid!Wolfwood x Reader (NSFW)

Authors Note: Welcome to Wolfwood Wednesday 2: The Wolfoning (also known as Zero started a drabble thinking he could finish by yesterday and then he didn’t)  Anyways this is what happens when I read too much of @demxnscous post and I’m crediting you even though you said you didn’t need it because I got lot of inspiration from your post. (Also I hope you’re doing better :( sending good vibes ur way) 

You aren’t sure how you got in this situation or- no that was a lie you knew how you got here it was just hard to believe it was actually happening. It started the day your bleeding heart took in a stray. A mutt that looked more wolf than dog who was surprisingly eager to listen to you and what the hell, who doesn’t want scary dog privileges? That was until two months later you had came home from work to find a full grown man laying in your bed rather than your beloved pet. You had screamed until he jumped up startled, when you noticed a familiar set of pointed black ears and fluffy tail. It had been an adjustment to be sure to find they were one in the same and when he had hung his head low, ears drooping you couldn’t kick him out, you couldn’t because...he was still your Nico, right?

Then things got complicated. Nico still had a lot of his animal habits, whether that was normal for hybrids or based on the fact he had stayed in dog form so long you didn’t know but he was always there. At your heels, hovering, sitting by your feet trying to make himself look small, laying his head in your lap, nosing along your throat, along your belly. Half the time you were sure he didn’t know what he was doing to you always being this close. It didn’t help he was attractive, the kind of man you were sure wouldn’t give you the time of day had circumstances been any different and yet he was always trailing you desperate to be good. 

Maybe that was your real undoing, that look he gave you when you could tell he was trying so hard to obey, to listen, to please you no matter what, to behave. Maybe you were the real animal because it made something in your brain light up, made your knees weak and your tongue feel to big in your mouth.

Then...there was today. Today when you came home from work early to find Nico nude on your bed, used panties in his hand as he inhaled your scent, pillow tucked between his legs as he humped with abandon, chasing after his high with your name on his lips. You should have closed the door, left and pretended you never saw him but you couldn’t deny the rush of heat that blossomed between your legs at the sight.

When he had seen you he had been startled, instantly ashamed, ears flatting and a whine in his tone as he apologized, waiting for you to scold him or finally kick him to the curb. What he hadn’t expected was you climbing into his lap, gently kissing at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s okay... is my poor Nico in rut?” you mummer, it’s a little embarrassing hearing those words come out your mouth but the way Nico’s eyes glaze over with lust and his breath stutters you’re sure you won’t regret it.

He whines and nods, those big brown eyes watching you with something like admiration? No...reverence maybe. Like a righteous man standing at gods feet, but you weren’t god and if your Nico was so eager to worship, who were you to deny? Yet he waits. He’s good like that, he always is.

“Please Nico” you breath out by his ear, pressing a kiss along his jaw for reassurance.

He’s on you in an instant, not rough just eager to please. His calloused hands slide off your clothes with ease, Nico nips along your throat oh so carful not to bite minding his teeth but greedy enough to let himself mark your pretty skin. Because despite the thick black leather collar currently around his neck (the one thing he left on) he needs to know, needs to know he’s yours, that your his, that you don’t need anyone besides him. 

He lays down and before you can ask what he’s doing Nico claws at the fat of your thighs, dragging you up up up to his waiting mouth. You yelp at the action trying to balance yourself on your knees but he doesn’t give you much time to adjust, bullying his head between your thighs, stubble scratching at your skin as he dives in. He gives quick licks against your already wet sex. It’s sloppy at first, the excitement of Nico finally getting what he wants making his thoughts hazy but when you whimper and try to grind down on his face he gets the message pretty quickly.

He grabs at your thighs and brings you down, movements more precise as he laps like a man dying of thirst making you mewl and writhe in pleasure. He makes a pleased hum at the noises he manages to pull from you and the added vibrations only add to the warmth building in your gut. You won’t last like this, you can’t, not when Nico’s doing everything he can to make you fall apart. You feel his soft ears flicker against your thighs and then two of his thick fingers press in curling against your sweet spot. You finish embarrassingly fast, the sensations too much for you to keep up with. You moan trying to move away from Nico’s tongue which keeps moving, overstimulating you pass your release but he doesn’t relent, he’s finally gotten his treat and he isn’t passing up the opportunity. 

When he does finally pull his head from out between your thighs you dumbly think that it’s over when he flips the two of you, letting a firm hand press gently against your back moving you so that you’re face down against the mattress. Doggy style, how original. If you weren’t just as desperate as Nico you might’ve even made a snide comment. That pillow he was humping is placed under your hips now giving you something to grind against while giving Nico the added benefit of your body being angled up, presenting yourself to the man behind you. At this point you’re starting to wonder if he really is in rut. 

Nico presses himself against your back, his warmth and weight both grounding and mind numbing at the same time. He reaches down to swipe his cock along you once, twice, then presses in only barely just the tip and for a second you wonder if he’s trying to tease you until he whines. 

“So pretty...so good, let me make you feel good baby? Please? I’m hurtin for you, didn’t even get to cum earlier want to put it in you so bad, I’m so hard for you” Despite the pure filth pouring from his mouth...it makes your own mouth water. You’ve never been more sure that you’ve needed someone the way you do now, the way he’s begging, strong arms keeping his body weight on top of you. Because of course he was asking first, he was your good boy and even though you can tell it’s taking all his self control not to just take you he has to prove it, has to prove how well he can obey.

“Nico~ be a good boy and fuck me” you breathe 

The control that he was hanging onto snaps.

“fuck- ah, shit so good baby, feels so good” Nico pants in your ear. You want to focus on what he’s saying, really you do, but it’s hard when his warmth is draped over your back, his strong arm around your waist is the only thing currently keeping your shaking legs up as he sinks into you to the hilt.

The stretch is there but your eyes are rolling back in your head at the feeling of being so full. It doesn’t help Nico’s leaking precum like a fountain, making a mess out of both your thighs, was he really this riled up over you?

“Been wantin to do this for so long- shit, s’good sweetheart taking me so good.” he nips at the shell of your ear and yeah you’re going to hell but if you can get Nicholas to fuck you like this a few more times it’ll have been worth it.

His hips set an unrelenting pace right off the bat, yet even now as he mouths along your neck, presses in deep enough to ruin you for anyone else, heavy balls slapping against you with each thrust, he never hurts you. Why would he? He’s good, he’s obedient and he’s yours. He want’s to show you, needs to show you how good he can be, how good he can make you feel.

Noises that sound like a mixture of a growl and and moan spill from his mouth, the metal of his dog tag feels cool against your neck. One arm wraps around your waist, pushing and pulling you along with his motions dragging you down on his cock over and over again. The other glides up your chest then stops once it reaches your chin, holding your head up as he pants in your ear. His hair is getting long, you can feel the ends of his shaggy curls tickling the back of your neck, that and his hot breath fanning against your back. 

You can’t think straight like this, each thrust spilling out more of both your slick. The walls echoing back the perverse sounds of both your moans, sloppy noises of skin meeting sweat slicked skin. Nico’s tail is wagging slightly and you’d think it was cute if he wasn’t fucking you stupid right now. A familiar heat is beginning to curl in your stomach, you roll your eyes back and feel a bit of drool begin to spill down your lips. 

You’re close, god you’re so close and you can tell Nico is too, actually you think he’s been close for awhile now but he’s not going to be satisfied until you are. 

“N-Nico please” you don’t know what you’re begging for but luckily he does, suppose that just goes to show how devoted he is, he knows you better than you know yourself.

He reaches between your thighs and- fuck your dripping, you weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it, maybe you were so distracted with the mess Nico was making you didn’t stop to consider your own. Either way you’d have to change the sheets later.

His fingers press against that sensitive spot that aches and you swear the breath is knocked out of you.  “Nico Nico Nico-” his name falls from your lips like a prayer and he whimpers, thrust getting more frantic more desperate as he tries to pull you to the edge.

“Please angel please, cum on me wanna feel it need you to feel good” this is so far from the cagey stray you brought in but then again...Nico always was so much more gentle with you. He sits at your heels, he nuzzles against your stomach he-

“Fuck Nico I’m gonna cum” you whine 

“Cum fuck- cum please baby need it” Nico pants fingers dipping again to work an orgasm out of you.

And it does. Your orgasm comes crashing into you like a train, a broken sound that you think is a half hearted “Nico” choked off by your own moans. Your legs tremble and Nico’s hand flies down to rip at the sheets as he makes his own desperate noise. It’s animalistic, a deep throaty moan that tampers off into something like a howl. 

He doesn’t stop, thrusting into you as his cock twitches spilling hot cum into until you swear you can taste it. It doesn’t help your body is eagerly reacting to it, walls twitching trying to milk him for all he’s worth, earning you a few more lazy thrust as his release begins to spill out of you from the sheer amount of cum he’s just filled you with. 

You both pant trying to recover, your body is limp under Nico and you aren’t sure you’ll have the strength to leave the bed for the next week with out fucked out you feel.

Nico leans down to nuzzle against your neck and face giving you an apprehensive lick against your cheek. 

“Good?” He ask flashing those puppy dog eyes at you. You know what he really means, “Was I good?” “Did I please you?” “Did it make you feel good?” 

You reach up to lazily scratch against his mop of black hair and around those fluffy ears. You’re rewarded with the feeling of Nico’s tail wagging keenly.

“Yeah...you’re my good boy Nico” you hum tracing along his collar, he shivers and you can feel his dick twitch in interest. 

“Insatiable” you huff pushing his face away, he flashes you a smile with those sharp canines and nudges your hand out of the way to nose against your temple.

“You have no idea” 

It seems neither of you are going to be leaving the bed anytime soon. 

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

Leave me alone!

Mushroom dance, mushroom dance, whatever could it mean?

Warning(s): yandere behavior from the twins, mentioned drugging via sleeping potion (it doesn't happen to you, but I still thought I should mention this one)

The Leech twins. Jade and Floyd. The so-called 'Tweels' of Octavinelle. You did not like them.

Oh no, you didn't like those twins one bit! One's CLEARLY plotting something, and the other's constantly trying to strangle squeeze people. You hate them. But they just seem to love you.

The worst part? Azul, their Housewarden/boss/childhood friend, doesn't do anything about it. Azul knows for a fact that they're creeping you out, but he just changes the topic whenever you bring it up, which really infuriates you.

You've been noticing the two of them more and more in your everyday life recently…

You just wished these two would leave you alone. Jade's always offering you mushrooms from his mountain hikes and telling you just how non-poisonous they are (which only makes you more suspicious of them), and Floyd's constantly trying to squeeze you.

Every day, you try your best to avoid them. Every day, it doesn't work.

"Theeeeeere you are, Little Shrimpy~!" Two clawed hands grabbed your shoulders. "Howzit going?"

"Leave me alone Floyd..." You sighed.

"Huuuuuh? Why?" Floyd asked. "I wanna play with you! You can be really fun, y'know~? Lets do something together!"

"No, I just wanna get food! I don't want to do... whatever it is you're trying to drag me into!"

"So we'll do it later?"

"No! Floyd, just-"

Suddenly, Floyd bit you on the cheek. Not a soft bite, no, a bite that straight-up pierced your skin.

"Take that as a promise. See ya later, Shrimpy!!" Floyd walked off, waving as he did.

There's no way he actually just fucking did that, right?!

That's it. If Azul refuses to do anything about it, you'll just have to MAKE HIM do somthing about it.

"Greetings, (Y/N)." A voice you immediately recognized to be Jade said, placcing his hand on the wound you had just received. Oh great, now you have to deal with the other one. "That's quite a nasty bite mark."

"Go. Away. Jade." You demanded, done with these two's nonsense today.

"My my, what's got your tailfin in a knot?" Jade asked. "I'm simply inquiring about that bite you have. You can't be walking around with an open wound like that, you know?" Jade used his magical pen to summon an ice pack, which he then applied to your face. "There you are."

"Thanks, Jade." You said, not actually wanting to thank him but knowing he wouldn't leave you alone until you did.

"My pleasure, (Y/N)."

You eventually got to have your lunch, but that didn't matter. Your food was spoiled by how angry you were with the twins (Mostly Floyd).

After school, you returned to the main building of NRC to find a certain clubroom. And when you did, you kicked open the door, earning a terrified scream and a shocked look from the two members inside, currently playing a game of The A-maze-ing Labyrinth.

You walked up to Azul and grabbed him by the tie, yanking him forward.

"You listen to me and you listen to me closely, Azul. You will get the Leech twins under control and you WILL get them to leave me alone, understand?!"

"Listen, (Y/N), I've tried! They just don't listen to me! Jade and Floyd do whatever they find 'fun' or 'interesting'. You just have to wait until they stop finding you interesting. They'll drop you like a sack of bricks."

"No, I want you to do something about thhis. Now, Azul." You demanded, taking the icepack off your face, allowing him to see the bite mark you'd received from Floyd.

"Oh Seven..." Azul said after seeing the wound. He sighed. "Listen, (Y/N), I'll try, but there's no telling if they'll listen to me or not."

"Good." You turned to leave. "Thanks Azul."

"Hey, could we, uh, get back to our game now...?" Idia nervously asked.

"Yeah, I'm done yelling at Azul. Have fun with your board game, guys."

Days later, you received a letter in the mailbox of Ramshackle dorm.

"Greetings, (Y/N). My apologies for all the trouble Jade and Floyd have caused you. Within this envelope, I have given you a very special, limited-time-use coupon for 50% off everything on the Mostro Lounge's menu. It will expire at the end of next month, so it is reccommended you use it as soon (and as frequently) as possible. Yet again, I apologize for the twins behaviour, and I hope this coupon is adequate compensation. I hope to see you soon - Azul Ashengrotto"

50% off? That's a good deal. Even if it turns out Azul was unsuccesful in getting Floyd and Jade to leave you alone, there's no way you're not gonna use this coupon.

So of course you made your way to Octavinelle, hoping to get yourself some half-off food (Big mistake, by the way). When you entered the Lounge, you found it to be... empty. Very empty. There weren't even any Octavinelle students.

Well... that isn't true. There were two Octavinelle students in the Lounge.

"Ehe! Shrimpy responded to our invitation, Jade...!"

"Indeed they did, Floyd."

Still holding the coupon in your hand, you realized this was probably a trap. But you asked the question on your mind anyways.

"Um... Azul invited me here... where is he...?"

"Ah yes. Currently, Azul is asleep." Jade explained. "I used what we've been learning in potionology to create a sleeping potion and mixed it in with some food I made for him."

"We found out he was onto us, thanks to you telling him to get us to stop." Floyd added. "Now we get to have our fun! Remember?" He placed his hand on his cheek, the same side as the one he bit you on.

You were terrified. Whatever happens to you, it's not going to be good.

"Oh dear, what's with that face, (Y/N)?" Jade asked. "There's no need to be scared! We won't hurt you- well, I won't hurt you."

"Speak for yourself, Jade! I wanna hear Shrimpy squeal!"

"Just be gentle with them, Floyd."

Something tells you that both of them will ignore Jade's advice,.

[pitviperofdoom]

It has been a HOT minute since I posted anything here about Caleb and Jack, my vampire-and-frankenstein-monster duo. They're two of my nearest and dearest OCs, and rest assured that no matter what else I get up to, they're always in my thoughts.

But this was the last time I made a substantial post about them, about six-ish years ago when I tried writing their story for NaNo. The way I was writing it wasn't really working out, and I shelved it for a bit so I could continue developing the storyverse they're part of.

And, well, I did a lot of development! Came up with a much more coherent plot for their intro story, ended up working on it last November for NaNo, so it worked out.

Anyway, some time after my previous attempt, Jack in particular went through quite the redesign, and for a while I've been wanting to draw how he looks now, but it's been ages since I drew regularly and I could never get up the nerve and motivation for it.

But hey! Writing's my thing! So I figured, why not just post his in-universe description?

So, here's Caleb and Jack's first meeting, in its current incarnation. Hope you guys enjoy:

Caleb’s hand was halfway to his phone when, further into the woods to the southeast, a pair of high-pitched howls rent the air.

“Shit.” He was already running. Normal wolves didn’t range this far west. What the hell were werewolves doing out here when there was a creature on the loose that already put two of theirs in the hospital?

A third wolf voice joined the rest, not so much a howl as a yelping scream. Caleb abandoned running and took flight instead, shooting upward until his bat form broke through the foliage and flitted over the trees unhindered. The wolves, bless them, continued to howl for help, leading Caleb straight to them. Once he was nearly on top of them, Caleb dove back down through the treetops. He abandoned his bat form halfway down, and let his weight carry him the rest of the way to the earth.

Three small, rangy wolves paced and snarled in the dark. One was limping. The other two crowded in front of them protectively, teeth bared to the gums at the fourth figure crouching in the loam nearby. 

It was a person, or at least person-shaped, dressed in rags and snarling like a beast. It moved strangely, its feet elongated so that it balanced on its toes like a bird. There was blood on the ground, and blood on its long, sharp, shining fingers.

One of the wolves lunged and snapped, and the creature charged. Caleb met it halfway and struck claws-first.

His talons tore through clammy flesh. The blow sent the creature stumbling back, clumsy on its oddly-built legs. Its foot caught on a root and sent it flailing to the ground, and Caleb was upon it before it could recover.

It struggled wildly beneath him, teeth gnashing and foaming as it tried to bite him. Another blow to the face, and Caleb’s claw caught on something that didn’t feel like flesh—string? Thread? Its breath smelled of blood and chemicals, and its eyes—

There was something wrong with its eyes.

It kicked out at him, and he found its feet just as sharp as its hands. He was forced to let go when it cut him in the stomach, and it broke away and scrambled back until a tree halted its retreat.

One of the young wolves charged again, baying like a hunting hound, only to catch another sharp-taloned kick to the face. The cornered creature lashed out again, and Caleb flung himself sideways into the wolf, knocking her out of the way with a yelp. 

“Get out of here!” he hissed, and the wolf snarled back at him defiantly. In the space left by their argument, the creature scrambled to its feet and fled. Caleb was about to give chase when the wolf slammed him back and took off after the creature themself.

By now the creature was wounded, and its gait made it slow. The wolf caught up in two bounds, and Caleb couldn’t reach them before the creature whipped around and tensed as if to attack.

With a deafening snarl, a fourth wolf—easily twice the size of the others, dark brown with a dusting of red around the ruff—appeared out of the trees, sank her teeth into the creature’s shoulder, and flung it back. The smaller wolf yelped in shock and skidded to a halt. Caleb overtook them and pounced on the creature before it could recover. It was trying to rise when Caleb pinned it to the earth, fangs bared. Dimly he was aware of the wolves’ snarling presence behind him, but his eyes were fixed on the creature. His mind raced. Removing the head or destroying the heart was usually a good bet, but he didn’t know what he was dealing with in the first place.

Head was easiest, at this point. If this was somehow a fucked up zombie, it might not even have a heart.

His hand closed around the creature’s throat. God, he wished he’d brought a knife.

Beneath him, the creature went limp. Its jaws cracked open, exposing smooth, shining teeth.

“St—Stuh—Stop.”

Caleb startled so badly he let go. The creature gasped and scrambled away again, before the red-maned wolf darted round to cut off its escape. A snarl from her sent it cowering into the dirt, crying out. 

“Stop please.” The words scraped their way out of its throat. Immediately it flinched, curling in on itself as if anticipating another blow. 

All Caleb could do was stare at it, then at the wolf helping him corner it. “You heard that, right?”

Maya Robinson cocked her head to the side, looking for all the world like a dog that had just heard a new sound.

“Did you just talk?” Caleb demanded, feeling ridiculous. It could be mimicry. He’d heard rumors of necromancers teaching their puppets to imitate speech.

The creature curled into a tighter ball without a sound.

“Hey,” he bit out. “Answer me if you understand. Did you just talk?”

It flinched again. Breath rattled and hissed in and out of it. “Sorry,” it rasped out.

Caleb stared at the wolf cornering it. She stared back, nonplussed.

Behind him, another growl rose from the smaller wolf from before. They crept forward, eyes fixed on the creature. The cuts on their face still bled. They lunged, only for Maya to let out the loudest snarl Caleb had ever heard. Cowed, they immediately dropped to the ground and pinned back their ears.

The creature on the ground startled visibly, rolling to its feet. Maya turned toward it, teeth bared, and made as if to lunge and put it straight back on the ground.

“Wait,” Caleb cut her off, one hand in front of her glaring face. “Just, wait. Give it a minute.” The wolf gave a disgruntled snort. “Don’t. You aren’t even supposed to be here.”

Maya snorted again, unimpressed, before turning away, tipping her head back, and howling to the sky. Answering calls reached Caleb’s ears within seconds.

“You, sit,” Caleb growled at the creature. It sat, arranging its legs awkwardly on the ground, and Caleb stepped back to take his first good look at it.

It looked human, for the most part. Its component parts seemed mostly human. It had two arms, two legs, and a head, all where they were supposed to be. Cautiously he took hold of one of the creature’s wrists, turning it over for a better look. It submitted to the inspection meekly enough, silent as it waited for him to finish. 

Maya had been half-right about it wielding knives. Its hands were knives; the fingers stopped at the second knuckle, and instead of the last two joints were six-inch steel blades. The thumb had been treated similarly, the last joint replaced with a shorter blade. Caleb tested one edge and cut himself easily. He released the wrist and turned instead to the strange shape of its feet, and had to stare at it for nearly a minute to understand just what he was looking at. Below the heel, its foot was an elongated fusion of metal and flesh that split into three toes with long, curved steel talons. It was built to walk like a bird. Like a dinosaur, more like.

Beneath the rags it wore, prominent seams crisscrossed its flesh, making its skin a grisly patchwork. The face alone had at least three different skin tones, each bordered by thick, even stitching. A shock of grayish-white hair grew from its head in uneven tangles. Caleb cautiously brushed it out of the way of its eyes, and couldn’t suppress a hiss of instinctive revulsion.

It didn’t have eyes. No sclerae, irises, or pupils. The sockets were pits of viscous black ooze that leaked like tears.

Caleb breathed in, drinking in the mingled floral-chemical scent, and sighed.

“I’m going to be completely honest with you,” he informed the wolves. “I have no idea what I’m looking at.”

[sword-is-bored]

I live for your Soldier!Reader and i am completely (not) normal about this

Oh!! She!!

Let’s go again then!

Mask It

(Y/n) and Link rode together through Hyrule field. They were tasked with surveying the land and making sure no monsters or goons. (Y/n) heard the chattering of Bokoblins and slowly slid from her horse. She listened closely, keeping her hand over her sword as she peeked from behind the trees. Before her was a camp of Bokoblin, cheering and dancing. She made sure she was clear from their point of view and slowly made her way to a bush in front of her. Underneath her foot a branch snapped, and the Bokoblins looked around confused. (Y/n) ducked down, praying they didn’t see her. She didn’t know where Link was, he’d split off from her. The arrogant asshole.

(Y/n) looked up from the bush, finding herself face to face with one of the pig faced monsters. It reared back it’s club, (Y/n) jumped back out of the way. She pulled out her sword and swung hard, catching the Bokoblin and throwing it off its feet. (Y/n) stood, looking up to see the other three Bokoblin running over and screaming. In a panic (Y/n) slaughtered the prone Bokoblin. She suddenly found herself enveloped in a pile of claws, fangs and weapons. (Y/n) let out a scream before finding her sword again, stabbing and striking violently as her instincts kicked in.

A horse rode up to the camp. Link sat atop of his trusty mare, Epona. “(Y/n), what happened?” He asked, his eyes wide as he looked at (Y/n). She was panting, debris of the monsters around her. She held her arm, biting back the pain from the arrow lodged in her shoulder. “Saw a camp.” She hissed, sitting down and carefully pulling off her armor around the arrow. “Decided to investigate. Bit me in my ass.” Link jumped down from Epona, rushing over to her. “Hey, do you need help?” He asked, a shake in his voice. (Y/n) laughed, looking at him. “I forget, you’re still technically a rookie.” She said, her hand wrapping around the arrow. “Watch and learn, kid, soon you’ll be doing this on the battlefield yourself.” She muttered, pulling the arrow out. It tore from her skin with a sickening sound, Link going green watching her.

“Goddess, I— (Y/n).” He said shakily, patting his pouches and diving in when he found bandages. He kneeled beside her, wrapping the gaping wound. (Y/n) leaned back and rested on a log, keeping her eyes closed. “Doesn’t it… hurt?” Link asked tentatively. (Y/n)‘s eyes opened, peering at Link. “Link, how do you think it would feel if you had to pull an arrow out of yourself?” She deadpanned. Link swallowed, finishing the wrap. “I mean… not great.” He muttered. (Y/n) rolled her eyes. “No shit.” She huffed, pulling her armor back on. “But, we’re knights. We power through.” She sighed, slowly standing up. “Come on, we’re not done.” She said, whistling for her horse. Link looked at her, horrified. “What? You’re not going back to the barracks? (Y/n), you’re injured—“

(Y/n)’s head snapped over to Link, a harsh look in her eyes. “Yeah, but we’re knights.” She said bluntly. “I know you want to surpass me, and I won’t let that happen. I’ll still be better than you, no matter how much everyone else likes you.” She climbed on her horse, wincing a bit. She masked it quickly, pulling on the reigns. “And next time, don’t split off from your partner. That’s the fastest way to get them, and yourself, killed. You think you know what it takes to be a knight, but you must learn teamwork.” (Y/n) said calmly. “Get on your horse. Let’s go.”

[coco-bean-1218]

CLAIREEEEEEEE I AM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BEGGING FOR ANGSTY CHUCK/CLAIRE CONTENT 🙏🙏

could i do "You’ll be fine.” silence “You’ll be fine. Hey! Wake up! Please. Please wake up…" from the injury prompts?? it doesn't matter who's injured, i'm sure it'll be great either way!!

love you!! have an amazing day!

BLU!!!!! I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!!! THIS IS GONNA BREAK SO MANY HEARTS!!!! GRAB THE TISSUES; YOU'LL NEED THEM!!!! LOVE YOU TOO!!!!

WARNING: SPOILER ALERT

December, 1944

Ardennes Forest, Bastogne, Belgium

The world erupted in a cacophony of thunder, the ground shivering beneath Claire's feet. December's chill had seeped into the bones of Easy Company as they huddled in their foxholes in Bastogne, but nothing could have prepared them for the sudden inferno that rained from the sky.

"Get down!" someone screamed, barely audible over the roar.

Claire’s instincts as a combat medic kicked in—she was already moving, crouched low, ready to throw herself towards the wounded. But fate had a cruel twist; a shell burst mere feet away, its shockwave hurling her through the air like a ragdoll caught in a gust of wind. Time seemed to slow as Claire soared through the air, her body twisting and contorting in unnatural ways. 

"CLAIRE!" The cry cut through the chaos, agonized and sharp.

Grant's voice, unmistakable even amidst the pandemonium, was laced with raw terror. His long strides ate up the distance between them as he bolted from his cover, the golden-haired paratrooper from California who'd never quite mastered the art of concealing his heart on his sleeve.

Claire hit the frozen earth hard, her vision exploding into a swirling mass of grey and crimson. Sounds dulled, as if she were underwater, her ears ringing with an eerie high-pitched whine that drowned out the battle cries and explosions.

"Cl-Claire?" Grant’s anxious face swam into view above her, his blue eyes wide with fear. His lips moved, forming words she couldn't hear.

She tried to respond, to tell him she was alright, but her voice was lost, a silent scream in her throat. Panic clawed at her insides, a relentless beast that wouldn't be soothed. She couldn't move, couldn't feel anything below the sharp pain that sliced through her chest just below her collarbone.

Blood—her blood—stained the snow around her, a vivid red against pure white. Claire's mind reeled; this wasn't how it was supposed to end, not here, not now. She had always been the one patching others up, not the other way around. 

Her breaths came in shallow gasps, each one an icy dagger in her lungs. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all—the girl who joked in the face of death now stared it down, and the humor was lost on her.

"Please," she heard Grant whisper through the veil of disorientation that clouded her consciousness, his plea a fragile thread in the tapestry of war that unraveled around them.

Claire's thoughts swirled, conflicting emotions battling within her. There was Eugene, her best friend, whose steady presence had always anchored her, and then there was Grant, the embodiment of awkward affection and earnest blue-eyed concern. She had never intended to weave such a complicated web of feelings between them, especially not here, in the midst of a world torn apart by conflict.

Was this what dying felt like? The cold seeping into her bones, the world fading at the edges, leaving behind only the echo of unrequited love and the faces of those she cared about?

"Grant," she tried to say, but the name dissolved into the frigid air, unheard. Her body was betraying her, refusing to cooperate, to fight, to cling to the life she'd always gripped with stubborn tenacity.

Through the haze of pain and fear, Claire held onto one thought: she wasn't ready to let go. Not yet.

"Roe!" Grant's voice tore through the biting cold, a desperate plea against the deafening blasts that continued to punctuate the frozen landscape. His hands, already numb from the chill, shook as he assessed Claire's injuries—a graphic contrast of crimson against the pristine white snow.

"It's okay, Claire," he reassured her, his gaze between duty and decorum. The fabric of her coat was shredded, and beneath it, a darker stain spread, threatening to consume her vitality. He knew he needed to act, but propriety held him back. How could he, a man raised on respect and decency, expose Claire in such a way? Yet, as her shallow breaths fogged the icy air, he realized that hesitation could cost her life.

"Please, Eugene!" he called again, his voice cracking with the strain of both fear and cold. He tentatively reached for the edge of her coat, hesitating, "Sorry, Claire," he whispered, as he carefully started to remove the layers, his fingers working with urgency yet light and respectful. His hands trembled, not just from the cold, but also from the fear of further injuring her or crossing an unseen line even in this dire situation.

Claire's breath came in shallow gasps, fogging the air briefly before dissipating into nothingness. She lay there, a delicate figure etched against the harshness of war, her life slipping away with each labored breath. 

"You’ll be fine." The words felt hollow even as they left his lips, a mantra against the overwhelming helplessness. Silence swallowed his assurance whole, leaving him stranded amidst the chaos of his own emotions.

Grant looked down into the wound, the blood seeping out onto the snow, painting a harsh picture of mortality. His mind raced, every second without Eugene an eternity, every drop of her blood a testament to his own inadequacy. His hands, though gentle, were clumsy with urgency as he worked to stem the flow, his movements mindful not to cause further harm.

"You’ll be fine." He repeated, more to himself now, a feeble attempt to will the universe into compliance. "Hey! Wake up! Please. Please wake up…" The tremor in his voice betrayed the panic that clawed its way through his composure.

In his mind, he saw her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, the spirited debates they’d shared, the tender moments that had unfolded so naturally between them. Those memories clashed with the present—her face losing color, her body growing still. The thought of a future without her was unacceptable, unthinkable.

"Come on, Claire," he murmured, his hands slick with her blood. Each heartbeat that throbbed under his fingertips was a reminder that she was still here, still fighting. And as long as she fought, he would fight with her. In the battlefield of love and war, surrender wasn't an option. Not for Claire. Not while he still drew breath.

"Doc, hurry," Grant whispered into the void, as if the words could summon Eugene faster. His gaze never left Claire's face, willing her to return to him, to return to the world that was cruel and beautiful and theirs for the taking—if only she would wake up.

Claire's eyelids snapped open with a jolt, revealing a world that spun and shimmered in a haze of blurred shapes and muted sounds. Her breaths came in ragged gulps, stirring the frigid air into tiny clouds that dissipated as quickly as they formed. The coppery tang of blood filled her mouth, mingling with the sting of gunpowder and earth.

"You're okay," Grant's voice reached her, distant and distorted, like an echo in a deep cavern. His hands were gentle yet urgent on her skin, pressing down to stem the flow of warmth that seeped from her chest.

But Claire's attention was pulled away, drawn to the spectral figure emerging from the chaos—a boy, no, a young man with familiar brown hair and eyes that mirrored her own in-depth and sorrow. Noah stood before her, his navy uniform impeccable, untouched by the grime of war. He seemed out of place amidst the snow and blood, an apparition from another time, another life.

"Hi, Claire," he said, his voice clear and soothing, a balm to the agony that wracked her body, "I've missed you."

"Noah...?" she whispered,

"It doesn't have to hurt anymore, the heartache or the pain," Noah replied, offering a half-smile that twisted Claire's heart with nostalgia, "The sorrow, the guilt, the longing."

"Can't feel anything... should be nice..." she muttered, her voice barely a thread, as her hand quivered, reaching toward Noah's inviting grasp.

"It is," Noah whispered, his voice like an ethereal gust of wind. "Peaceful. No pain. No fear. No war."

Her hand twitched, instinctively reaching for him, but a sharp pain lanced through her body, drawing a gasp that fogged the lenses of her glasses. She could see Grant's silhouette hovering over her, the intensity of his gaze burning even through the blurriness.

Noah's hand stretched out towards her, fingers almost translucent against the backdrop of the winter sky. "Come with me, Claire. We can be together—like we always should've been."

"Grant will understand," Noah continued, his gaze holding hers, unyielding yet full of compassion as he placed his phantasmal hand on Grant's shoulder. "He's a good man. He knows about loss, about love. He knows how much you loved me, how much I meant to you. He'll let you go."

Claire's mind reeled, torn between the beckoning peace Noah offered and the raw, desperate need to cling to life—to Grant. Her thoughts became a tangle of memories and wishes, each one pulling her in opposite directions. Could she leave Grant and Eugene behind? Abandon the future they might have shared?

"Please, Claire, fight this," Grant urged, his voice breaking through her indecision. "You're strong. You’ve always been the bravest person I know."

Tears blurred her vision further, mixing with the blood and dirt on her face. Noah's presence was comforting, promising an end to pain, to fear. But it was Grant's touch, warm and alive, that anchored her to the here and now.

"Grant...Eugene," Her voice was a wind-whispered echo, her hand lifting with the tremulous fragility of a leaf in a storm.

"Hey, hey, I'm right here," Grant said, his voice thick with panic as he pressed down on the wound with more force, crimson overflowing onto the white snow beneath them. His heart pounded against his ribcage, each beat a hammer blow against the walls of his composure.

"Noah...?" Claire murmured again, reaching out to the spectral vision only she could see. A soft smile curved her lips, a stark contrast to the chaotic tumult around them. Her fingers brushed through the apparition's offering, finding nothing but the chill of winter air.

"God, no," Grant whispered, hot tears carving tracks through the grime on his face. He watched her eyes fixate on an unseen horizon, her gaze filled with longing and love for a ghost from her past. The ghost of Noah Walters—the man he could never be, the first to claim her heart.

"Stay with me, Claire," he pleaded, feeling the tremble of her body like a sparrow in his hands. "Don't go to him."

But how could he compete with eternity? How could he chain her to a world of pain when the one she loved offered her solace in the beyond?

"Grant...will understand," she spoke aloud, her voice a fading ember as the hallucination of Noah coaxed her further. Her fingers twitched in the empty air, seeking a hand that wasn't there.

"Understand what? That I'm losing you? That I can't save you?" Grant's whisper broke into a ragged sob. A sob born from the deepest well of fear and loss, a sound that mingled with the distant thunder of war.

"Please, don't leave me," he begged, pressing his forehead to hers, his tears warm against her cold skin. "I can't—I won't let you go."

Claire's breath hitched, a silent struggle raging within her. Noah's presence was soothing, a balm to her shattered soul, yet Grant's touch, his earnest plea, was a lifeline thrown in a roiling sea.

"Damn it, Claire! Fight! Don't let him take you away from me!" Grant's voice was a desperate incantation, willing her spirit back from the precipice.

In her delirium, the pull of Noah's ghostly allure was strong, like a siren's call tugging at her very essence. It whispered promises of peace and reunion, of a love that transcended time and death itself. All the pain and suffering that had marred her existence would be washed away in the tender embrace of Noah's phantom arms. In a veil of mist, she saw Grant's tear-streaked face, his blue eyes searching hers for any sign of sanity, of recognition. He begged her with silent tears, his breath catching in his throat as he reached out for her one last time.

"We can be together, just like you always wanted," echoed Noah's voice in her mind, a haunting symphony of memories and dreams.

"God, no...not her...not my Claire," Grant repeated, his voice a raw edge of hope. He took hold of her hand, still reaching out into the open air, and pressed it tightly against his chest, over the frantic thump of his heart. His grip was fierce, unwilling to let her slip away. "Don't go. Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice hoarse with desperation. "I can't imagine my life without you."

"Stay or go," she heard her own heart echo, as she slipped back into unconsciousness. A heart that beat not just for the lost love of her youth, but for the man who held her now, who wept for her life amidst the snow and blood, whose tears fell onto her cheeks.

"I LOVE YOU!"

---

[the-fiction-witch]

I Missed You

Media My Left Hand Man / Phantom Halo / Sleep No More

Character Samuel Emmerson

Couple Samuel X Reader

Rating SMUT

I sat on my bed reading some comic books as usual when I heard the door, I knew my dad and Becket was out so I sighed and got up heading to the door and checking the peephole to make sure it wasn't a debt collector or anything worse, but I saw a sweet sight so I quickly opened it. 

"Hi Y/n," I smiled as I saw her on the porch, 

"Hi Sammy," she giggled hopping in and giving my cheek a kiss as she goes back to my room, 

I shut the door and bolted after her wrapping my arms around her in her cute little pinafore dress as she threw her bag on the bed, she happily wrapped her own around my neck and pulled us into a deep passionate kiss. 

I kissed her back enthusiastically for as long as she'd let me until she pulled away, "Umm I missed you so badly Y/n."

"Aww missed you too Sammy," she giggled, 

"What uhh did you pop by for then? just a cuddle? just some kisses?" I cooed

"I was thinking something more..." she smirked stroking her hands down my shirt,

"Yeah? How much more?"

"Well I was thinking some bed breaking sex?"

for a second I was speechless, "Uhhh... yes. I would like that very much," I nodded,

She smirked and pulled me back to our kiss and tugging us both into my bed, 

I kissed her passionately stroking my hands over that perfect body, she kissed me harder and clawed her nails at the back of my shirt, I eagerly pulled back sitting over her with my legs either side of her slipping my shirt off and throwing it off my bed quickly returning to her lips holding her face in my hand as we kissed. She stroked her hand down to my jeans but I pulled back trying to catch my breath "this what you want?" I cooed to her she nodded, “Ummm I don’t know what is going on with you today… but I kinda want it to happen everyday!” I smirked tugging them off too as I reconnected our lips and slowly pulled up her dress pushing higher and higher till she sat up and helped me tugg it off her leaving her completely naked on my bed. I had to admit I stopped and admired her no matter how often i see her she always floors me with just how amazing she is… I kissed her neck and kissed down her chest squeezing her breast as I went fuck she felt so good and I kissed all the way down to her mound trying to make her open her legs so I could eat her out but she didn't want me too she forced me back to her lips by my hair and began clawing at my underwear

"Ummmm okay Y/n" I growled quickly, kicking them off much to her enjoyment as she smiled widely, stroking her hand across my shaft tenderly "uhhhh!" I gasped my head throwing back my jaw dropping, she smirked and opened her legs wide stroking her pussy almost invitingly and I sure as hell didn't need to be told twice, I held the base of my shaft to guide myself expecting some difficulty given I hadn't used my hands or my mouth for her but she was absolutely soaked! I slipped in so easily you'd think I'd have been eating her out for three hours! But she felt so good ! Everything I have ever wanted to feel around me! I uhh I admit I think I went a bit crazy holding the bedframe as I wasted no time to absolutely fucking destroy her! My head nothing but extacy, my hips working in their own, the bed creaking and squeaking, my breaths sharp and jagged her only sound her playfully little giggles which only made me want to be harder and more intense, I wanted to stop her innocence giggles and make her scream for me! I knew I was close but I wanted to hear her so badly kissing her neck leaving her with a few hard hickeys "You always feel so good! But today… Ummm! I need you so badly" she gripped my arms and started to dig her nails into my skin I knew I was so desperate biting my lip and squeezing my eye shut trying do hard not to cum just yet when are tightened around me and squirting down my bed screaming in my ear and that was enough "uuuuuuuhhh-uuughhhh!" I burried myself as deep inside her as possible before I pulled out and laid beside her bothy of us starting at the ceiling "fuck -" I gasped "what the hell Y/n?” I chuckled,

“I missed you,” she giggled,

“Yeah… I missed you too,” I smiled holding her hand and giving her a kiss as we calmed down. 

[siriannatan]

Downsides of Dating a Dragon - WitherHusbands

I woke up. Had an idea. And now I have a morning one-shot. Nice. (it's like 10 in the morning here when I'm posting this :})

fWhip would be the death of his, Sausage decided one lazy, gloomy, Grimlands morning. Not because of what most would think. While fWhip was a walking accident and Sausage was called over by his advisors to physically drag the half-dragon out his lab, kicking, screaming, whining and begging included, more than once a week that would not be it. No. What would get him was how clingy fWhip was in his sleep.

Now, Sausage in the slightest did not mind cuddling his best friend, closest ally - all official titles, boyfriend - unofficially so Gem does not murder him. But sharing a bed with fWhip did come with some dangers.

He rarely filed his claw-like nails. They simply did not bother him and were good if his scales itched. Speaking of. fWhip's scales had these neat sharp edges that wore out his shirts pretty quickly but also left Sausage covered in tiny red scratches almost every morning after sharing a bed with fWhip. Another, and probably rather bizarre thing was... fWhip liked to mark his territory even in his sleep so Sausage sometimes woke up in the middle of the night to fWhip biting him. Nothing dangerous but he had rather sharp teeth so it hurt.

But no, none of those would be what takes Sausage off. What was about to do it at any time were fWhip's horns. As much as Sausage loved the two pointy, dark horns poking from fWhip's hair and how easy they made putting him to sleep they were really pointy and sharp. And fWhip really, really didn't like anyone but Sausage messing with them because they were shockingly sensitive. Must have been a dragon thing. No goat Sausage ever met minded their horns being filed. 

So Sausage sometimes, when fWhip managed to wiggle out his hold, woke up with horns near his neck and jaw and a happy fWhip purring into his chest. And maybe, just maybe, he thought fWhip was too cute like this to ever complain about the horns. And damn warm. Like really warm even if he was a rather sharp individual. "Och," Sausage whined when one horn poked his jaw in a rather painful way. He was sure there would be blood but he didn't really care all that badly about it.

Not with fWhip suddenly sitting up. Eyes wide. Hair an absolute mess. Utterly adorable even if shocked, call Sausage a sadist if you like, he just liked fWhip's face no matter the expression. "Sausage...? You're bleeding!" fWhip panicked, getting even cuter.

"It's nothing," Sausage yawned and cast a simple healing spell. Being blessed by a god was often a good thing unless there was an evil-god-possessed-demon elf around. "I'm already fine, see," he grinned but it did not seem to lessen any of fWhip's worries. "Spark? fWhip? It's all fine, I'm okay," he tried assuring but fWhip's adorable frown - maybe he was a bit of a sadist...- got even frownier. 

"I could have stabbed your neck," fWhip huffed in annoyance, gently resting one hand around Sausage's neck. "That's not 'nothing' or 'fine'. Why haven't you said anything sooner?" he asked with another sad sigh.

"I'm not that delicate," Sausage smiled, rubbing comforting circles on fWhip's hips under his sleep shirt. Being a  half-dragon, and as warm as he was, fWhip did not like being cold. Bonus reason to avoid visiting Rivendell. "I'm aware enough to wake up before anything happens. Your cute biting does wake me up sometimes," he grinned and fWhip instantly blushed. Cute. Very, very cute.

"I... I do not... Do I?" fWhip tried protesting but ultimately pouted out a sheepish question.

"Don't worry, you usually keep it to where I can cover it with my shirt," Sausage chuckled. "And it's very flattering. And cute," he added.

That fWhip did protest. He was absolutely not cute. He was the Count of Grimlands and a half-dragon. Cute was the last thing anyone should think when looking at him. This time Sausage let him have a win. He was too cute to argue with, even if he was utterly adorable when angry.

[outlanderalien]

Make love through war.

Part 1

Kurotsuchi Mayuri / Kenpachi Zaraki, Kenmayu, Zayuri

Short ficlet, might follow up with a pt2 later down the line...

The unconventional start of a relationship between two ultra violent monsters and their insatiable bloodlust.

CW: Violence, S&M

_____

"S-..Subarashii..." Mayuri gasped as blood flooded his lungs "Your strength.. truly is a marvel to behold.."

Zaraki didn't reply, his gaze fixed on the golden eyes of the man he'd just impaled.

"At a loss for words?" Mayuri smiled "You should be..." He choked back blood "The dose I administered earlier should have incapacitated you entirely..."

He relaxed slightly, letting the weight of his body hang on the sword embedded in him, causing him to let out a shaky gasp that excited Zaraki.

"But, my, my..." Mayuri hummed as he stretched his hand out, placing it on Zaraki's with a half-lidded glance. "Beast that you are..." He pulled the blade deeper into himself "You simply brute forced your way through it..."

Their faces now inches apart, Zaraki's expression was stoney and intense, unmoving as though possessed. Mayuri leaned in closer, examining every detail through half closed eyes, he could feel the brutes hot breath on him.

"Ah, paralysed at last are you.. ?" He almost sounded disappointed "You must be in exquisite agony... But I suppose even a savage like you must have your limits-- Gh-!!"

The blade twisted unexpectedly inside him, rendering him speechless.

"You talk too much." That deep growl made Kurotsuchi shiver.

Zaraki unsheathed the sword from Mayuris anatomy, letting him crumble to the floor. They were both breathing hot and heavy, battered and bloody.

This fighting had been a recurring event ever since their very first battle. Something happened during that time that neither could've anticipated. No matter how much Zaraki mutilated Mayuri, he could never truly kill him, he'd just slink away and regenerate. And no matter how many poisons Mayuri tested on Zaraki, he always found a way to confound Kurotsuchi and his scientific method.

For each it was as though they had found a new toy, one that could never bore them, and one they could never truly break.

As time passed, something in the air changed between them. In the midst of all the stabbing, biting, clawing, mauling, poisoning, mutilating... there was intimacy. It was fierce and erotic, bloody and lustful, agonising and orgasmic.

"Are you gonna regenerate or what." Zaraki grunted.

"My word, you are insatiable." The scientist lay broken on the hard ground, smiling weakly. "I haven't the time to keep playing with you, besides it's going to take a while for me to regenerate after all that." He tutted "Honestly, the pain you've put me through..."

"You feel pain?" Zaraki had always figured that he'd have had those inefficient nerves removed.

"Excruciating~" Mayuri beamed sickly. Many questions Zaraki had were answered with that one reply.

With a sigh, Kenpachi turned to make his leave.

"Oh? Leaving already..?"

"The fight's done."

"and don't you want the spoils of war?"

Kenpachi halted, he knew exactly what he meant, though he wouldn't turn to face him again.

"Such a pain..." Mayuri continued in a playful tone "I'm entirely helpless in this state... One could truly take advantage of me like this~"

"Get a hold of yourself." Zaraki snarled "I don't fuck corpses."

"Ah, just like a savage then. You prefer them kicking and screaming~"

Zaraki didn't dignify that.

Wordlessly he continued his exit, bloodlust still running high, and nowhere to put that energy, nowhere he was prepared to yet anyway.

"Another time, perhaps" Mayuri teased.

Alone, Mayuri lay in his own pooling blood, irritation began to wash over his lust like a bucket of cold water. "Honestly..." He muttered to himself "I have much work to do on those poisons... Truly laughable results..."

He too now had a lot of energy that will go to waste, and coming down from that high left his ego in tatters.

"Ungrateful savage. I don't offer myself to just anyone..." He suddenly felt the crushing embarrassment of rejection all at once, which quickly turned into burning anger.

"I will have to make a very special concoction for that brute..." He began plotting sadistic poisons and traps for their next battle, giddy at the thought of bringing Zaraki to his knees...

...

"That bastard." Zaraki muttered to himself as he returned to the barracks. "Mocking me like that. Sick freak." His mind was still on the visage of Mayuri draped on his sword, moaning indulgently.

He had to stop his mind wandering further. The things he held himself back from doing during that fight... And despite his restraint Mayuri had to go and tease him like that at the end.

"Tch..."

Next time I'll give him what he wants. His mind was still stuck on all the ways he wanted to break Mayuri, and all those shrill whines and moans he makes... I'll give him what he wants alright...

[kstewdeux]

@inukag-week

June 12th, 2022 - Domestic

Summary: Some demons make Inuyasha have an existential crisis which screws up his plans.

Disclaimer: I misunderstood the assignment but it’s too late now.

“Would ya look ah that! Bastard really is domesticated! Look how he came runnin’ when she called!” the spindly ogre cackled and his companions cackled with him, “It gets bettah! He’s got a collar!”

Nostrils flaring, Inuyasha tried his best not to let these weak bastards into his head. They had very clearly drugged Kagome who was groaning in a corner and the bottle of jewel shards was being tossed between the ugliest ogre’s hands. Besides, it wasn’t like they were saying things that weren’t true. No point getting offended.

“I’ll give you one more chance to hand over those shards,” Inuyasha growled out - his hand over his sword and the cackles only grew louder in response, “We can do this the easy way or you can go down hard.”

“Nah. Don’t think so,” a greenish goblin snickered as he held up his palm and the ogre tossed the bottle over, “We ain’t scared of you lil’ half-breed. Heard all about yaso go ahead. Pull out that little sword of yours. See what happens.”

For the first time, Inuyasha had some concerns about the situation and saw the need to tread carefully. If they really had heard of him, if they really knew what he could do, they might’ve taken precautions. Traps even. Maybe Kagome…

“My bitch is gunna kick all your asses,” a third puss-riddled ogre mocked gleefully, “Got a big sword ‘cause he ain’t got no claws. You touch his woman and you’ll be sorry.”

Another demon joined in the general mocking grunts which consisted of variations of the same three points.

Nodding to himself, Inuyasha had to admit her assessment -although not accurately portrayed - was fair but it also left out how thoroughly he was going to destroy these evil gremlins. They didn’t actually know what he could do. They were assuming he’d swing his average sized sword around and hope to hit something.

He smirked.

“Oh-go! Doggy got bite! I like it,” the first and arguably biggest ogre taunted before looking at the drugged miko and gesturing for her to get up, “Come get your bitch girlie. Put him in his place!”

“That does it,” Inuyasha huffed as straightened up and cracked his knuckles, “You chose the hard way.”

“Oh please. You’re so domestic I bet if she said ‘sit boy’ down you’d go,” the first ugly bastard cackled and Inuyasha’s barely perceptible wince was very unfortunately noticed.

“Hit a nerve there, huh, half-breed? I bet she uses that collar to…”

Whatever disturbingly astute observation the demon was about to make was cut off short by five expert claws and a good amount of panicked screams. Was he soaked in blood? Yes. Did Inuyasha care that he exacted vengeance? Yes but only because it was satisfying and he enjoyed doing it.

“Stupid bastards. What do you know?” Inuyasha sniffed hatefully as he wiped the gelatinous blood off his face with one hand and flicked it onto the floor. Sadly, Inuyasha would admit they knew quite a lot given the small amount of time they’d known of his existence. Pretty much pinned down their dynamic for one. Servant and master. Kagome called all the shots and they both knew it. That putrid ogre was right in other ways too. All she had to say was sit and he’d grovel at her feet without a choice in the matter and…

Letting out a shuddering sigh, Inuyasha rolled his shoulders and turned to collect the irritating woman. A woman who honestly wasn’t all that irritating. Truth be told, he liked when someone else was in control. She fed him and took care of his injuries and controlled the schedule. Sure…there were elements of their relationship that would make outside observers think he was a pet but…

Clearing his throat, Inuyasha tried to dismiss that thought as quickly as it came. Kagome did not see him as a pet and if she did, she had very strange ideas about what people did with pets. Yeah, people…people loved on their pets but they weren’t in love with them. Not that Kagome was in love with him or anything but she did find him attractive if her scent was any indication. One thing he did know was that most people did not want to fuck their dogs.

Or did they? They… didn’t, right? No. No they didn’t. He was being stupid. Letting those assholes get inside his head.

Wrinkling his nose at the highly disturbing thought, Inuyasha knelt down and scooped up the clearly drugged miko. That was the thing. He didn’t used to be domesticated. Even before mother had died, he’d held his own and only held back because he was a good son - something that he was secretly very proud of being. Point being, it didn’t matter that his mother had been human. He was strong and arguably one of the most powerful demons alive today. He lived on his own most of his life. Ate mud and tree bark and anything he could get his hands on when times got rough. He slept outside in the rain. Killed more than a few humans and demons in his day. When it came to survival, he could run circles around those whiny bastards.

But…he didn’t like it. Those years of survival felt shameful to the point where he never mentioned it and he’d be the first to admit the lifestyle was miserable. He liked that Kagome took care of him and loved on him. He liked that she brought him treats and cleaned up his injuries. Sleeping indoors by a fire was heavenly. Taking baths regularly made all the difference in the world. Those times she brushed his hair nearly made him purr and holding her against him was the best part of his day. It was just…truth was that he liked…

Being domesticated.

Inuyasha’s ears wilted as he walked towards a small clearing where he could better inspect her for injury.

Even if there were conditions, being with people was better than a being alone. Sure, “bad” behavior was punished but that wasn’t just a pet thing. Humans got punished for doing bad things too. Like going to see Kikyo. Eating what he shouldn’t. Speaking his mind. All of those could earn him a sit or some very disappointed glares but, by that same token, Miroku couldn’t grope women without getting slapped. If you wanted to live in society, there were rules. Living by rules was literally the golden rule.

That was just how things were.

“Hey. I’m gunna set you down, alright?” Inuyasha whispered quietly - earning a soft groan as Kagome tried to melt into his hold, “It’s okay. I’m right here. I just gotta check you out. Make sure you’re not hurt.”

A weak nod and a tired sigh. The examination started easily enough. Kagome was so wiped by whatever they did that she didn’t fight to preserve her modesty - despite the fact that they’d both seen what each had to offer - and so the inspection went by relatively quickly. Now came the hard part. Getting her to form words. Inuyasha could tell by scent alone that she hadn’t been poisoned, merely doped, but how the substance was introduced was still a mystery. Drinking seemed most likely since there wasn’t an injection point and no residue on her clothes but how did they managed to force such a thing down her throat?

“They called you domestic,” Kagome mumbled drunkenly as her eyes fluttered but failed to open, “‘Cause I called for you. S’weird.”

“They just mean I stay with humans. That’s all,” Inuyasha soothed while gently stroking her hair - figuring a half-truth was better than no truth, “Its way more weird for you to bring that up. Now. What did they give you?”

“Hm?”

Inuyasha smiled at the way she wiggled to give him better access and leaned into his touch.

“You like that, huh?”

A faint nod and content sigh. Letting out a shuddering sigh, Inuyasha continued gently running his fingers through her hair - his eyes glazing over for a moment as he allowed himself to dream.

“Did they make you drink anything?” he asked finally as he sat down crossed legged and gently pulled her head into his lap, “Water? Tea?”

Licking her lips, Kagome made a face that he supposed signaled that she didn’t remember. He ran the back of his fingers down her flushed cheek and any anxiety in her expression melted away into bliss.

“Made a lot of dog puns,” Kagome slurred randomly - rolling onto her side and burying her face into his knee, “Uncool.”

“Yeah, yeah but I need you to try and remember what they gave you,” Inuyasha laughed softly- his claws playing with tendrils of her hair, “Anything at all that you can remember.”

“Fuzzy. Tied me down,” she offered as she curled her arm around his leg and amber eyes flicked towards the rope burns with a scowl, “Wine maybe? Bitter grape juice taste.”

“Okay. That’s good. Anything else?” he asked quietly before realizing that the miko had passed out and he was now trapped. There had been very few times she’d fallen asleep on him and the experience had always been one he cherished. There was something about someone trusting you enough to be that vulnerable. I mean, sure, she was drunk but she’d fallen asleep on him plenty of times when she wasn’t…

Her fingers twitched across his thigh and Inuyasha let out a content hum. Here was the thing. Yeah, maybe she saw him as her pet or even a friend but he’d rather live like this than spend another second alone. In fact, he probably wouldn’t even survive if he was forced back into that lifestyle. In only good ways, Kagome had broken him.

And he loved her for that.

The woman in question suddenly reached up to tug on his sleeve and began trying to inch worm her way up his lap.

“What’re you trying to do?” Inuyasha snickered which made the miko pout.

“I want cuddles.”

At the extremely random and unusual statement, Inuyasha snorted but didn’t otherwise react. Her pout deepened.

“Inuyasha…”

Inuyasha didn’t miss a beat as he smirked and teased back.

“Kagome…”

“I’ll give you kisses,” she mumbled tiredly as she once again tugged on his sleeve. Any amusement Inuyasha found in the situation evaporated.

“You don’t have to do that,” Inuyasha muttered as rested his chin in his palm and glared into the distance, “You’re drunk. Just rest.”

“But I wanna give you kisses,” she whined - her nose diving into his hip making him jump in surprise. He hadn’t even realized she’d gotten that high up and were she in right mind, she’d be mortified.

“W-what else did they say to you, h-huh?” the poor half-demon desperately tried to change the subject and adjust certain parts of him out of the line of fire, “They got f-friends? Plans? A-anything?”

Burying her nose into the much safer ground that was his thigh, Kagome groaned and rolled onto her stomach. Both arms moving to wrap around his waist as she failed to answer his half-assessed questions. Instead…

“Love you,” she breathed as her muscles began to relax. Despite knowing she’d forget - or perhaps because she would-  Inuyasha took a deep calming breath and decided to repeat the sentiment. One set of claws lightly massaging her scalp while he rested his chin in his free hand.

“Love you too woman. Love you too.”

‘Twas Shippo who put the pieces together a few days later after Kagome gave Sango a run down of what she could remember while the girls bathed. Inuyasha had been acting a little more subdued than normal. A little more cooperative. Avoided talking to Kagome if he could help it despite the miko going out of her way to get him alone. All of these things were subtle, naturally, and fell beneath almost everyone’s notice but after Inuyasha didn’t take the opportunity to knock him upside the head over a well-timed insult, Shippo knew something was wrong.

Being domesticated was the ultimate insult a demon could throw at another demon. Period. It was probably something Inuyasha had to overcome given that he was raised by humans during his formative years and very likely must have taken him a few years to get into the demon swing of things. That being said, Inuyasha tried very hard to make everyone forget he even had a human half and it wasn’t a secret that he hated that part of himself. Most of the time anyway. Sure, there were times when he didn’t seem to mind mentions of it and once or twice, he’d actually cited his humanity as the reason he never gave up…

After insulting humanity by calling them greedy, selfish bastards but that was beside the point.

That whole…thing wasn’t what bothered Shippo though. What bothered him was that Inuyasha must have heard the insults and made some kind of warped decision about the his life.  He was leaning into the idea that he was just a servant or a pet or something which was so insane  Shippo had a hard time believing this was real life. Since when did Inuyasha actually take insults so seriously?

Unless, of course, something else had happened on that fateful day and Inuyasha stupidly decided to give up for some unfathomable reason. Anyone with eyes could tell he loved Kagome. The only rational conclusion that Shippo could imagine was that Inuyasha realized he was domesticated and being domesticated meant he couldn’t return to his former life of roughing it. Because of that, he didn’t want to risk getting rejected. Maybe?

So it was that the little fox kit sauntered over – hands clasped behind his back.

“Ya know, demons call me domesticated too but I don’t care,” Shippo offered casually and Inuyasha immediately reacted. Setting his jaw, the half-demon gave the little demon a withering glare and rolled his eyes.

“What made you bring that up?” Inuyasha huffed knowingly, “Spying again, are we?”

“You’d only know that’s where I got it from if you were spying and heard Kagome talking,” Shippo pointed out and amber eyes narrowed while a faint blush bloomed across his nose.

“What’s your point?”

“I think they’re jealous. The demons who say that,” Shippo continued – lifting one tiny hand to inspect his nails, “We can go anywhere we want. Do anything we want. No consequences.”

Wrinkling his nose, Inuyasha scoffed and shook his head.

“Where’d you get that…”

“I’m serious. Even when Papa was alive, I couldn’t go into villages. Couldn’t go near humans,” the little kit continued, “It was dangerous. Now we get paid by humans. Fed by humans. Housed by humans. All the time. It’s a much easier life.”

“And the demons who say that are…jealous of that?”

“Who wouldn’t want an easier life?”

Chewing the inside of his lip, Inuyasha considered this point of view before wilting and shaking his head.

“There are some things that are still off the table,” Inuyasha mumbled quietly as his eyes subconsciously flicked towards the miko, “Things we can’t do.”

Knowing full well where Inuyasha was going, Shippo rolled his eyes and folded his tiny arms across his chest.

“Tell that to every human girl I’ve courted. Didn’t stop me,” Shippo hummed knowingly, “The only person stopping you from that is you.”

Realizing that Shippo knew exactly what he was talking about, Inuyasha shifted his weight and cleared his throat.

“She…She said she loved me,” the half-demon admitted and Shippo’s little eyebrows shot up into his bangs. Was Inuyasha confiding in him? Of all people?

Aside from this mind blowing turn of events, the world suddenly made sense again. Inuyasha was afraid to rock the boat because he thought Kagome might have meant it and he didn’t want her to change her mind. Or he was avoiding her so she couldn’t say it again. Insecure and stupid as ever, this grown ass man was trying to…

What was he doing? By all accounts, this didn’t make sense and no amount of mental gymnastics seemed to line up with any theory. It’d be one thing if Inuyasha was acting like he normally did after something even mildly romantic happened. Not acknowledging it and pretending it didn’t happen was his go to move. But this time, he was being just plain weird. Could be that he was acknowledging what happened in his own way. Being a ‘good boy’ thinking that would let Kagome know he reciprocated her feelings without having to say it outright. That might be what was happening. His avoidance of Kagome could be his attempt to avoid voicing feelings because god knows this poor man was not good at that.

Or maybe-

Maybe Inuyasha hadn’t realized how ‘domesticated’ he’d become and that was his problem. It was an open secret that Inuyasha had been orphaned and abandoned when he was about five. Had lived in constant survival mode with no stability. That he’d jumped at the chance to throw his strength away and live a normal life. Without a second thought by the sound of things. A lot of his unseemly behavior could be characterized as a trauma response. That explanation didn’t hold water though since the crux of the matter seemed to be Kagome’s love.

What was happening here?

Shippo cleared his throat.

“What did you say? To her? What did you say to her?”

Inuyasha’s blush grew darker and he shrugged. Although Shippo was the last person he’d ever consider, there was only one verbal demon in their group that might understand where he was coming from. It didn’t matter if she loved him or not. While nice to hear, being with her wasn’t worth the risk for so many reasons.

First off, the whole Kikyo thing was very much still a thing which meant Kagome could get fed up with him over a situation he prayed every day would just end. After almost a year of uncomfortable encounters and daily fear, he was tired. He was so tired of having to keep track of someone who wasn’t even around. He was tired of subjecting himself to insults and injuries from someone who supposedly loved him at one point. He was tired of having to go and having to stay true to his word where the salvation of the undead miko was involved. But he had nothing to offer anyone except his strength, honor and loyalty. And her rebirth was his fault. If he hadn’t said her name…

Anyway. Moving on.

The second reason his feelings was moot was because he’d fucked up. There were so many agonizing moments burned into his skull that left him internally screaming whenever they raised their ugly heads. Proclaiming he’d chosen Kikyo all those months ago and defending the zombie woman when she did very clearly bad -arguably evil - things. Like almost killing Kagome. Several times in fact. Despite this, there his dumbass always went running after Kikyo and putting everyone’s lives at risk. An insane impulse and a deranged one seeing as how it was increasingly more obvious that Kikyo didn’t care what happened. Hate and love seemed related but the opposite of love wasn’t hate. It was indifference and everything anymore pointed to Kikyo being indifferent towards him. But there was no way out. He was ruining his own life for someone who didn’t care whether he lived or died.

Well. She wasn’t always indifferent. She did love hurting him and, at first, he lived in some fantasy world where Kikyo could do no wrong. Even if she was completely honest about what had happened. Example after example of how shitty and delusional he’d been played out every night before bed. Like asking Kagome if Kikyo hurt her that fateful day with the creepy vines. That had to be the most intentionally ignorant thing he’d ever done. Kagome had vine shaped welts on her neck and legs. Kikyo straight up admitted she’d tried to kill her competition. And what did he do after hearing the confession and seeing the evidence?

‘DiD sHe HuRt YoU?’

What a joke…

Those damning strikes aside, the problem with Kagome was that she was from five hundred years in the future. It was inevitable that the well would close and she’d be on the other side. The slayer and the monk would have an obscene number of babies while rebuilding the demon slayer’s village. Kaede was old as shit and would die any day now. Shippo had the fox demon temple and wasn’t going to stick around just to be Inuyasha’s plus one. Which meant he’d be alone all over again and after living a life of luxury, his chances of survival were slim to none. He’d been domesticated without even realizing it’d happened and now he was screwed.

“She didn’t really mean it,” Inuyasha sighed then, “Was the booze talk-“

“I bet you…” Shippo quickly looked around searching for something enticing before seemingly giving up, “I bet you all my candy that if you went up and told her you loved her…Or even just say that she was pretty or something overly nice, she’d say it again.”

Inuyasha snorted.

“You’re full of shit.”

A second passed then two.

“Fine then.”

Inuyasha’s eyes widened as he realized what was going to happen a second too late.

“Imma tell her,” Shippo blurted before turning on his tail and running as fast as he could towards the miko. A miko who turned to the sight of a very amused kit and a horrified half-demon scrambling after him.

“What are you two doing?”

“Inuyasha said he loves-” Shippo started before a large clawed hand slapped across his mouth. Fairly certain that she understood what that word was supposed to be and not able to think of a single other reason Inuyasha would be this panicked, Kagome smiled. She might’ve been high as balls a few days ago but she’d been fairly certain she’d heard the half-demon confess something that sounded quite a lot like ‘I love you.’ These past several days she’d tried to look for signs that he’d said something of that nature. Tried to create situations that would allow him a private moment to get his thoughts together. Which…had kind of had the effect she wanted? Inuyasha had been unusually pleasant since the kidnapping incident and more than once, she’d caught him looking at her with a warm melting look that he quickly masked upon his gaze being discovered. The only weird thing was that he’d been avoiding her. And that he’d apparently turned to Shippo to voice his concerns? Had confessing his love broken him somehow?

“Inuyasha… loves…what?”

“Ramen. I love ramen. Make some,” Inuyasha blurted before rushing off with the restrained kit in tow. Much to Inuyasha’s sheer panic, Kagome followed behind.

“Go away bitch!”

“No,” Kagome hummed – purposefully ignoring the insult and continuing to follow after Inuyasha’s uncharacteristically clumsy form.

“This doesn’t involve you!”

“I think it does,” she countered knowingly and Inuyasha went rigid. Slowly, so slowly he turned to face her with the bemused kit still captured against his stomach.

“Doesn’t…”

“I think I might’ve just heard what you love. So why don’t you let Shippo go so you and I can talk,” she offered sweetly and Inuyasha looked like he hoped someone would kill him.

“No.”

Kagome wrinkled her nose and gave the terrified half-demon an affectionate yet stern look, “Yes.”

An awkwardly long period of time passed before Shippo has enough of the awkwardness and bit Inuyasha’s fingers with all his tiny might.

“OH YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Inuyasha hissed as he shook his bleeding hand and tried to get the kit to release , “THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?”

Letting go, Shippo wiped the blood off his mouth before gracefully landing and scurrying away before Inuyasha could catch him. That wasn’t to say that Inuyasha remained standing before Kagome ike a man at an executioner’s block nor did he use the excellent opportunity to chase the kit as a reason to return to camp.

Nope. He turned tail and ran like a fugitive who just escaped from jail. Tried being the operative word because, as the ogre had guessed so accurately, all it took was one ‘sit boy’ to bring him down.

“Why are you running?”

Pushing himself up onto all fours, Inuyasha desperately fought against the spell in his terror induced desire to not have this conversation. For so many reasons. She knew. And he knew she knew and…and…

Fuck. She knew.

“Go away.”

“But I have a secret,” Kagome hummed and with a heavy sigh, Inuyasha seemingly gave up on escaping and allowed the spell to slam him to the ground. With irritating levels of casualness, Kagome sauntered up to where Inuyasha lay face down in the dirt trying to steel himself against the incoming bad news. She knelt down and gently scratched the base of one ear, “Can I tell you?”

“N-no.”

“I’m going to tell you anyway,” Kagome informed him and despite the positivity in her tone, Inuyasha flinched. Letting out a weary sigh at the reaction, the miko cleared her throat and went ahead, “I love you. Do with that what you will.”

The world around them went still and quiet. Even the crickets forgot to chirp and the birds refrained from singing. Or, at least, that’s how Inuyasha with his normally heightened senses perceived existence to be. All he could hear was Kagome’s steady heart rate which proved she wasn’t lying. All he could feel was her fingers gently stroking his ear.

“I wasn’t that drunk,” she added suddenly for good measure, “I know you love me too. Don’t deny it.”

A second went by then two before Inuyasha made the most miserable sound she had ever heard in her life before he used the second.

“Doesn’t matter.”

As Inuyasha pulled his arms and legs up with his forehead still planted on the ground, Kagome’s eyelids fluttered slightly at the unexpected response.

“Wha-“

“It. Doesn’t. Matter.”

“What are you talking about? Of course it does,” Kagome teased and Inuyasha’s hands balled into fists that he curled around his neck.

“No. It doesn’t.”

“I disa-“

“Don’t you get it? They’ll kill you. Dead. Gone. You think I go to Kikyo ‘cause I’m that pathetic?” Inuyasha snapped hoarsely, “You think t-that I just forgot the times you’ve k-kissed me? That I d-didn’t want-“

Paling slightly at his ardent explanation, Kagome’s mind caught up just in time to interrupt his outburst.

“Inu-“

“No. Just shut up and g-go.”

“Why don’t you want to talk about this?”

“Do you not understand what ‘go’ means?”

“We need to talk about this.”

“No.”

“Well I’m going to stay right-“

“I’m not s-strong enough, okay? I’m not so drop it,” he finally mumbled – his voice thick and hoarse while his chest shuddered, “I u-used to be but not anymore. Those b-bastards were right. I’m weak now. I c-can’t go back.”

Biting her cheek, Kagome rolled her eyes.

“That’s not tru-“

“I didn’t think you’d remember it!” he hissed almost hatefully, “Forget what I said. Didn’t mean shit.”

Kagome sighed heavily and tried a different tactic that didn’t go as planned.

“Inuyasha, you are plenty strong-“

The half-demon uncharacteristically whined and shook his head.

“No I’m not! I c-can’t lose you. I can’t go back t-to how thing used to be f-for me,” he offered barely above a whisper – the arms curled around his head tightening, “S-so it doesn’t matter. I c-can’t…”

Sighing heavily at this defeatist attitude, Kagome did the only logical thing she could think to do. She laid down next to him and tried to coax him to look at her.

“You aren’t going to lose me,” she reassured him – her fingers gently rubbing his downy ear. Inuyasha shivered slightly at the touch.

“The well could c-close. Naraku w-wants us all dead. Kikyo nearly m-murdered you,” he listed off the various points he was trying to make in between heaving breaths, “What’ll happen if she finds out, huh? If Naraku finds out…”

“You and our friends will prevent anything from happening. You won’t be doing the whole protection thing alone. Besides, I’m way stronger than I used to be. I’m a big girl. I can handle myself,” Kagome whispered and finally, finally he turned his head to look at her. Those expressive amber eyes wavered before he plopped onto his side and suddenly pulled her into his chest. With her head tucked securely under his chin, she could feel the fierce pounding of his heart and see his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed to control his emotions.

“D-don’t tell anyone I cried,” he instructed hoarsely and making a face, Kagome had to admit she wouldn’t’ve known had he not told her. Nodding slowly, Kagome draped one arm over his waist and gave him a light squeeze.

“Y-you gotta promise me that…that if it gets too dangerous, you won’t fight for this,” he continued shakily – his arms pulling her impossibly closer, “You go home and forget me, okay?”

If she gave him the response he clearly wanted, it would be a lie. Even if she did promise now, she was self-aware enough to know that she’d break that promise. Inuyasha chuckled softly almost like he was reading her mind.

“F-fine. Don’t die. Don’t leave. Can you promise that?” he amended with weary amusement and to that, Kagome nodded her consent to those terms. A long painful moment went by as Inuyasha buried his nose in her hair and clearly tried to get ahold of himself.

“Good,” he breathed as he gave her body a light squeeze and stretched his arm out under her neck, “This…this wasn’t how I wanted this to go, ya know?”

“You didn’t want me to know ever so I imagine not,” Kagome cooed and Inuyasha chuckled softly at being called out.

“Went about how I thought it’d go though,” he admitted with a long defeated exhale, “You were gunna figure it out eventually.”

“So…you’re saying you knew I’d win you over…”

“I’m your dog. You know I’ll roll over for ya,” Inuyasha muttered playfully before stretching out and leaning his cheek atop her forehead.

Kagome cringed at the poor joke but didn’t comment. Several deep inhales and a knee forcing its way in between her legs later, Inuyasha let out a little hum before his breathing officially evened out.

"Wanna do this more. S’nice,” he cooed happily - completely oblivious to the three pairs of eyes glancing out from behind a bush courtesy of his congested nose and the blood still pounding in his ears. Maybe Shippo was right. Being domesticated definitely had its perks. Right now, he had everything he’d ever wanted in life. A home. Friends. A future. A real future where he could live a normal extremely boring life. A wife and kids and maybe even a garden.

Letting out a tired groan, Inuyasha pressed his torso against the warm inviting body in his arms as his mind began to drift. Being tangled up in her arms was the weirdest thing. Sure, being near her usually calmed him and made him happy but being laying here with her literally made every fear he had melt out of him. For once, everything seemed right in the world. For once, he felt…safe.

And being safe made him extremely tired for some reason. Like he’d never had a proper rest and desperately needed one. Weird. Accurate but weird.

“Thought we weren’t letting people know we’re a couple,” Kagome teased as she snuggled closer and she could almost envision the way his lips twitched upwards.

“Who said that?”

“You did,” Kagome huffed – no real irritation underlying her tone, “Literally just now.”

Inuyasha let out a contented yawn and she felt his muscles fully relax. His hand going slack as he strangely seemed to be dozing off.

“S’not what I said wo-“

“In all fairness, that is not, in fact, the point Inuyasha conveyed,” a far too amused male voice offered as Miroku made the very dangerous decision to make his presence (and the fact he’d been spying) known. The reaction was immediate and Miroku had exactly five seconds to run away while cackling madly. Those five seconds were a gift really. Inuyasha was groggy thus making his usual instant response time delayed. After a good hard bump was delivered, the half-demon returned with a deep blush and a foul mood.

“The monk is getting us a room,” Inuyasha announced gruffly as he reached down and pulled a semi-embarrassed Kagome to her feet, “Anyone says shit and they deal with me.”

“There isn’t a village-“ the slayer began hesistantly before biting her lip and shying away from Inuyasha’s irate glare.

“He’s gunna find one,” Inuyasha snarled before seeming to realize what he was implying given the uncomfortable reactions he was receiving from everyone. Of all the asinine things to think. Like he’d actually risk doing that. Mainly this punishment was demanded because he was tired and wanted to sleep undisturbed indoors with Kagome in his arms. What had started as a despairing thought was now one he was very willing to accept. Since he was domesticated whether he liked it or not, he was going to lean into that hard. Unless absolutely necessary, there was gunna be no more making do with uncomfortable situations or acting put out for stopping at inns. Food better be good and cooked and plentiful if at all possible at all times. Everyone could bathe whenever they needed to do so. It wasn’t lazy. It was glorious and a privilege he’d been ignoring far too long.

Also a happy wife meant a happy life and the second the quest was over, he was gunna wife the shit out of his miko. Until then, he was hellbent on making Kagome the hap-hap-happiest woman this side of the well and fully intended on riding the luxury train alongside her.

Sango was the first to speak after his announcement.

“Uh…a room? As in one?”

Setting his jaw, Inuyasha gave the slayer a withering glare.

“We, as a group, will be staying at an inn. For everyone to sleep in. What the hell is wrong with you? Bunch of perverts,” he huffed before making a face and casting a somewhat approving look at Kagome’s red face.

There was something in her scent that had his little male heart swelling with pride. Her thoughts had gone the same place as the others and she was clearly embarrassed but there was an undertone that told him she wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to whatever it was she was thinking. In fact, she smelled a little thrilled at her ideas.

He smirked at his woman which only made her scent flare that much hotter.

“ All of you.”

[lustfilledsinner]

I wake up to a hand on my face and a knife against my throat. Both your arms are wrapped around me in a tight embrace. It's hard to breathe, but that's not the first thing I notice. Instead, my attention is immediately on your bulge rubbing against me, your groaning right in my ear. Despite my best efforts, I can't help but let out a whimper, leading you to realize I'm awake. Like flipping a switch, I'm suddenly underneath you. I feel a shiver running down my spine at seeing you in a mask, face entirely hidden in the dark. I recognize you, but I also don't. It's fucking terrifying. I try to scream, but before I know it, you're stuffing my mouth with your fingers, telling me to shut up, stay still, and be good for you. You tell me that you just have to do this, you can't hold back. Even though you've clearly got the advantage through size and the knife in your hand, I struggle, bite your fingers. You don't hesitate, immediately pulling away and cutting open the flimsy shirt I wore to sleep, before slashing away at my skin as well. I whine, beg for you to stop. It hurts. But you keep going until you're satisfied, all the while using your other hand to hold me down by the throat. Too focused on your chokehold, clawing at your hand in an attempt to get out of it, I don't notice the way the blade trails down my torso, right to my thighs, to my aching cunt. When it seems like I'm losing consciousness, barely still struggling in your hold, you let go and move further down, spreading my legs and using the back of the knife to trace my slit. You comment on how wet I am, what a good slut I am for you, how disgusting it is to get so wet from this shit. You slap it once, twice, three times, and finally I start trying to move away again, squirming. You laugh at my weak attempts to escape you, using the knife to cut my thigh again in warning. I groan, breathing heavy, and you can see me clench around nothing. You comment that I must want your cock so, so bad, that my body's betraying me, no matter what I do, you can see what I really want. I beg for you not to, but you just slap my face and tell me to shut up, to take it like I'm supposed to. Despite my wetness, I feel so, so tight around you. I squirm and kick, and you realize I'm crying, telling you it hurts so, so bad. You tell me a painslut like me should know how to take it, that you're doing this for me. You're teaching me what a good toy should be like. Always ready for you, whenever you want it. You fuck into me at a ruthless pace, gently stroking my cheek a couple times before following it up with some rough hits. It doesn't take long before I'm cumming under you, clinging to you because of how sensitive I'm feeling, just repeating 'please' over and over again, crying more and more with each thrust. You take your time of course, getting off just the way you want to, holding me down however long it takes. When you've finally had enough, I cling to you like a lifeline, thanking you for how wonderfully you teach me, for the fucked up shit you're willing to do to me, for how lovely you are. You tell me to just close my eyes and go back to sleep, comforting me until I do eventually find myself dreaming again.

My fucking god this got me so fucking hard reading this! Fuck definitely gonna read this over and over again~

[lifesver]

@johnnysslaughter said: 🔪   //   put  a  knife  to  my  muse’s  throat .

he has johnny down on the ground, knee jammed below ribs, cracking him across the face once, twice, three times — satisfied, only when johnny spits up blood. newly split knuckles pulse and sting, his heartbeat is screaming in his ears. leland scrabbles for kitchen knife, dropped in the struggle — forces the edge of it all the way down to johnny's throat, against the resistance of johnny's bruising grip on his wrist.

❝ i'll fucking kill you, i swear to god — ❞ he snarls through his teeth. kill him, you have to kill him —

johnny laughs, because of course he does — all bloodied teeth, the maw of a jackal. taunting him with his own brutality; 'there it is. all that anger. the-ere's the killer. doesn't that feel better?

sticky-sweet mocking in that low drawl. he doesn't think you'll do it.

❝ shut up, just — shut the fuck up! ❞ he hisses wildfire frustration, trying to force the knife down harder.

you fall for it, you always do, don't you?

it takes only a moment's hesitation, of overthinking, and johnny, like a feral fucking animal, sinks teeth into leland's forearm — makes him cry out from the shock of it, try to rip away from him. but johnny catches him roughly by the wrists with another low laugh. kitchen knife is wrenched from his grip.

johnny reverses them in one quick movement. shoves him into the dirt, hard. arm across his throat, knife pressing up under his chin, close enough to draw a hairline of blood.

aw, so close, he coos. you're gettin' better.

leland growls — kicks, thrashes where he's been pinned, spits blistering curses up at him. johnny leans down over him with a maddening laugh, and leland's knuckles whiten with the effort of keeping the edge of his blade from cutting any deeper.

you really are stupid. he might really kill you, this time.

what the fuck does it matter? if you're going to be tortured like this? if every escape attempt ends in johnny, dragging him subdued and half-conscious, back to the cells. all at once, he feels like his chest crushes itself into a tight fist. expression flickers, miserable, bitter. his grip loosens unconsciously — and johnny could slit his throat here and now, but he doesn't. again, dangles his life by a string, reminds him of who's in control. who has always been in control, will always be stronger, will always win, in the end. he wondered, how many times did he have to try and fail, to push back against what he wanted from him, before johnny lost his patience?

he's tired, frustrated. maybe he should just accept it; he isn't getting out of this place. not alive, anyway. ( — and what if you do? that brand carved into your skin will always remind you, and anyone else. )

❝ — why don't you just fucking kill me? ❞ eyes cold, brimming — still writhing, trying to knee at him, digging short fingernails into the man's arm. chest heaves with his sharp, jagged breaths and jackhammering heart.

he uses the last of his breath to explode at johnny; ❝ — why maria? why me? ❞ demand resounds around the cold tunnels. oh, but you? you were dumb and hopeful enough to believe him, when he said he wanted to help — because you got yourself caught — because you're nothing but a project to him. just another toy to break, like any one of the corpses in this basement — ( you don't like believing the other thing. the thing he keeps trying to tell you. you're not like him — you're not, you won't be, never — )

johnny is keeping him exactly where he is — and he's struggling himself ragged, gasping, kicking up the dust as he claws a hand into johnny's shirt, drags him closer purposely. so that the knife bites into his skin again, eyes wild and hateful and grief-stricken. challenging him; ❝ fucking. do it! fucking kill me! come on! ❞ he felt like he was going crazy. he wanted to scream it; stop torturing me, stop dragging this out —

his head is pounding, the restriction of air is making him hazy. his struggling weakens, and he drops his head back into the dirt, angry, but defeated. white flag. fucking mercy, again. leland blinks dizzy, glassy eyes, breath shuddering. he meets johnny's dark gaze, searches it for something. speaks quietly, with cold, chest-scraping sincerity;

❝ why — why the hell — won't you kill me? ❞

[killemwithkawaii]

Goretober 2022 Day 12: Paved with Good Intentions

I woke up this morning to a scream- a terrified, guttural scream right beside me.

Mitch and I had gone to bed together last night after he’d carried me through the front door of his apartment a few dozen times. At first, I’d resisted with every ounce of strength I could manage, not wanting to risk touching the darkness in case that was the trigger for our deaths. When he initially picked me up, I wriggled off his shoulder, and he chased me in circles around the room until he caught me and wrestled me to the ground. He dragged me, kicking and screaming, to the door, which he opened without looking back, telling me he was sorry, but he was doing this for my own good. I dug in my heels and resorted to trying to claw and bite my way out of his grip, but he held tight to my wrists and dragged us both through with one mighty heave. 

We found ourselves on the bed. He sat up, and after a minute of confusion, the process was repeated. Once we’d been around the door-to-bed loop six or seven times, I was tired, and resigned to letting him carry me around like a rag doll until he ran out of steam himself. His persistence and creativity were admirable as usual- He tried taking us through fast, slow, sideways, backwards, bridal-style, piggy-back, fireman’s carry, hopping, skipping, tip-toeing, head-first, feet-first, gut-first, butt-first, holding his breath and hollering 'CORNER' so whatever it was that was blocking us would know to get out of the way… he even strapped me to himself like a baby and tried getting a running start a few times. No matter how we went through, we always ended up back on the bed. After the last attempt, he laid there next to me drenched with sweat, his breathing ragged, and his face bright red. I let him catch his breath before I asked,

“...Are you done?”

“How… Why the fuck isn’t this working…?! I’ve tried everything…!”

“I told you we can’t leave…”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!! How could a door just… not work…?!”

“I’m not sure, but… look, we’re both tired. Let’s pick it up in the morning, okay…?”

“.....”

I got comfortable next to him, kissed his sweaty forehead, and turned out the lights. 

“Goodnight, Mitch. Get some sleep. Maybe we’ll think of something tomorrow…”

Sitting up a few hours later, I saw that not much thinking would get done today.

Mitchie and I were both split open, somehow gashed from one hip to the opposite shoulder, our intestines pulled form our bellies and sprawled out over the sheets, entwined between us in the vague shape of a heart. The layout was obviously deliberate, but neither of us were exactly dazzled by the macabre display.

“... huh. Now where have I seen that before…”

In stark contract to my unimpressed sarcasm, Mitch was sitting up, shaking and hyperventilating. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and judging by the movement of his hands, it looked like he was torn between wanting to try to untangle and shove his organs back into place, and not wanting to touch them and risk further damage to the delicate membranes- they were already twisted together like some kind of demented balloon animal, and clearly nicked open in a few places. The mattress beneath us was soaked with blood and the contents of our abdominal cavities. Judging by the spread of the puddle, I presumed it had been absorbing what we’d been leaking for at least a few hours now.

“S…S….S…S…!!” He finally opted to reach for my hand, not knowing where else to put his.

“Hey, hey, I know- it’s okay- I’m right here…”

“S…SAL! SAL, WHAT- HOW DID-... WE’RE-... OH, GOD… OH GOD, I-... I’M GONNA-”

“Shh, Mitchie, I know it’s… fucking horrifying… but try to calm down a little, okay? We probably don’t want to add any puke to this soup…”

Buuuut he did, and I couldn’t exactly blame him- I definitely threw up the first time I saw my insides on the outside…  I gently rubbed his back as he retched over the side of the bed, and once he was done, I did my best to untangle us without causing any more tearing. I gathered up our respective entrails like coils of rope, grabbed a mixing bowl from the kitchenette, gingerly placed his coil inside, and gently coaxed him to the couch so I could try and clean up some of the carnage in the sleeping area. 

“S… Sally… We need help… we need to go to the hospital…!!”

“We can’t leave, remember…?”

“But....we…!”

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll try to play doctor again in a minute. Just let me try and get some of this first. I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on stitches with this rank smell hanging around…”

One the sheets were bagged and the vomit was mopped up, I tried my best to put us back together for a while. I haven’t really been successful. Those slippery suckers just won’t stay packed in. Our stitches keep ripping open, and it all just comes slithering out of us again... 

“This can’t be happening… it can’t be real…! That was a dream. The crash was just a bad dream… Wh... why won’t I wake up already..?!”

“.....”

We’ve been sitting together on the couch, letting it all hang out, for most of the afternoon. He drew this little by little, and has been holding his bowl and been pretty much frozen in his spot since he finished it. I’ve been trying my best to comfort him, but there’s not much I can do to reassure him besides remind him that I’m here, and I'll be here with him, until the very end... whatever that meant.

[anxietylord]

Alrighty tungle, here’s another poem I’m throwing in my upcoming chapbook

Hide and Seek

If I look you up now I find all I need to know. Google provides photos, links, articles. You’re a lawyer now, in Australia. It sounds like the punchline to a joke.

If you look me up now, what would you find? It depends on who you search I suppose. I’ve been so many different people and only scraps of evidence that they ever existed remain.

I read the things you’ve written now, a man and not a boy. It’s sleight of hand; you jumble your million dollar worlds, tying your tongue into knots no fingers could undo after this many years of fumbling and backtracking. If you keep tangling and talking fast enough maybe no one will notice what you’re saying doesn’t actually mean anything at all.

What would you say if you read what I wrote now? Could you even bear to look at its oozing surface except through gaps in fingers, peeking like a child? It’s bloodied, pulpy surface pulses and throbs under scrutiny, my words look like they’ve been run through a meat grinder several hundred times.

I see your life now. You’re married to a woman. What more can I say except that she’s a woman since she has no other defining characteristics. Weird guys always go for average women in the end they say, it’s easier to project your fantasy on someone who’s a blank slate. But maybe she isn’t as empty of a vessel as you’d like to believe. Inside, her soul might be screaming and pounding at the walls of the prison she made for herself, the prison she made her body and heart and mind because society told her to make herself invisible so men like you could consume her. I hope she breaks out one day.

What would you see if you saw my lover now? They are world weathered in the way you used to pretend to be. What could a 19 year old boy sitting atop an ivory tower know about pain? Could he know what it’s like to live defiantly in the face of a world who won’t acknowledge what you are? No. They have a darkness in them that may taste bitter to some, but then so does a fine whiskey. I taste smoke and earth and peat as they feed me their soul through open mouth kisses. Could a man like you, sitting atop a mountain of gold and ignorance ever satisfy a refined pallet? No. They are bold in ways you’ll never comprehend. They know life, they’ve tasted it’s poison and come back for more, a handsome Lazarus, living and dying and living again. And they could kick your sorry ass.

What do you do to refill your cup? Who’s to say these days. Maybe it’s the same as it was when we were young. You go skiing at a members only lodge in Vermont. You travel to Europe for a quick weekend getaway. You spend your sodden spring wandering out in the ankle deep mud of your family’s many ancestral acres. You summer in elba when you have your heart broken, the worlds most expensive temper tantrum. Even Napoleon had the self respect to pick up and leave before daddy ordered him to come home.

It would be a lie if I told you that everything I did fed my soul. I take the train. I clean my apartment with the windows that let in the bite of winter. I pull my rumpled laundry out of my broken dryer. I spent hours sifting through the dirt to find another shitty job that doesn’t pay me enough to live, since I deserve to spent my whole life suffering for not having a college degree. I take them up in my hands like a lump of clay and squish them down as hard as I can until they transform. I watch my friends tell secrets on stage to hundreds of people. They scream without making a sound, they tear their former selves to shreds. They change in front of our very eyes, rising from their old skin, raw and new. I open my hands and the lump of clay has turned into a diamond. I’d say that’s worth it all, don’t you?

If you looked me up now, you’d never find me. I’ve hidden myself well, deep in the chasms of the earth. No matter how desperately you claw at me you’ll never dig me out. It took me so long to sew up the wounds you left as you sunk your silvery teeth into my flesh the last time we met, I’ll never let you get another taste. They say the things that hurt us loom larger than life, and seeing them again makes them small. Your shiny fangs and dark, wet maw have lost their sheen, tarnished by time. You could never find me now, you wouldn’t even know where to look. The best you can manage is the trail of breadcrumbs that ends abruptly where my real life begins.

If you saw me now, how long would you be able to stare? Cover your face with your hands, shield yourself with your arms against me. Behold me and blind yourself. I burn brighter than any star. All you can see now are the scorch marks.